


It's a Goddamn Shame

by TentacleVamp



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abuse, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Domestic Violence, F/M, Female Jonathan Byers, Female Steve, Female Steve Harrington, Homophobic Language, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Male Nancy Wheeler, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Redemption, Sexist Language, Slurs, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-02-11 12:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12935307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TentacleVamp/pseuds/TentacleVamp
Summary: Billy Hargrove is not like his father. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.Because Billy may get shit-faced, pick fights every other week, sweet talk some cow and kick her out after they’re done; but he has never hit a girl.





	1. Nosebleeds, Palm Trees, And Tumbleweeds Rustling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50% character study, 50% wanting to see Billy hit rock bottom and feel shitty about it!
> 
> I keep imagining how different things would've gone if Steve was a girl. Their rivalry, the collision course. So, I wrote this sad mess. Keep in mind though, although I go into why Billy acts the way he does, he's still an asshole. And it's going to be a slow burn in terms of his redemption arc. Billy needs to realize just how close he's to becoming his father before he actually does something about it.
> 
> The title comes from "West Coast" by The Neighbourhood. Because, really, it's such a Billy song it's not even funny.
> 
> Beta'd by @Fluffinson (you're the best sweetie!)

Billy Hargrove is not like his father. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Because Billy may get shit-faced, pick fights every other week, sweet talk some cow and kick her out after they’re done; but he has never hit a girl.

That’s the line he has set up for himself. It’s a pretty clear line. He remembers ingraining it into his head when he was just five years old. When his father threw his mother to the ground and left her with purple bruises across her arm.

Most of it was hidden with long sleeves. Next month’s black eye was harder to cover up.

And yeah, he knows he’s just as psychotic when he starts fights. Billy likes them just a little bit too much. Perfect faces turned into a bloody mess. Pricks crawling through the ground in agony. The nose-bleeds and leftover bruises that remind him that _these ones_ he’s won. He’s not a bitch or a faggot. He’s top dog and here are the marks that prove it.

(The adrenaline also silences other thoughts. Things he doesn’t speak about nor he cares to remember.)

Hitting boys is different, anyway. Men who are real men should be able to defend themselves. The rest who can’t are just pussies who’ll end up alone, crying while jacking off because they’re just that pathetic. Boys were meant to fight. They can take it.

_“And you can take it, can’t you? Don’t start crying like some bitch. Even your mom has more balls than you.”_

And Billy Hargrove is not a bitch. He’s **not**.

But girls. Girls are allowed to cry and laugh and be as damn annoying as they want. They just can. And they don’t deserve to be beaten for it.

Like Billy’s mom. Cheryl. She was beautiful. Billy had earned her golden brown locks and bright teal eyes. "You look like your pretty mom," they'd say. But what they meant was, "It fits her better." It's okay. Billy agrees.

She was always so damn kind, too. Which still pisses him off. Because that kindness was infinite, it didn’t matter how much people took from her, she always seemed to have something left for another rabid stray. Always.

Billy’s father took advantage of that. And the kindness kept going. Going and going, round and round, like some twisted circus act. But everyone has their limit.

Cheryl liked to bring Billy to the beach when his father wasn’t around. It was good there. The cold water would hit his knees and create goose bumps all over his body. The sun covering the rest of his skin like a warm blanket. Billy could laugh as much as he wanted there. Father wasn't around to call him a faggot. And his _mom_. His mom was so different than how she was inside that small apartment. She’d grab him by the waist and reassure him the waves weren’t going to wash him away. Chase him around with a big smile when he was being particularly moody. Build sand castles with the most care, just to stomp them down, and rebuild them back again.

She was lively. Excited. Listening to Billy like his words mattered. Everything was just _right_ there.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, where he knew his father wouldn’t be able to know what he was thinking, he’d make these plans. Grab his mother at the next opportunity and flee the hell away from that asshole. It’d get so detailed he would remember which store they passed by had family tents. They could pack their bags, buy that same tent, and go somewhere else where it also had a beach. Settle it away from the rocks so the waves wouldn’t get them. That would be their home now. Everything would turn out just fine. They would always be happy then.

Of course, next morning would come and Billy would lose his nerve. It was nice to imagine saving the princess from the big bad monster. It was another thing to grow a set of balls and actually do it. He’d feel shitty. Right until Cheryl would bring him to the beach. Rinse and repeat.

That is, until he’s ten, and realizes his mother has become too quiet. Foolishly, thinking he could fix something so intricate with a nice afternoon, like the stupid naïve kid he was, he suggests they could go to the beach and make everything better.

Cheryl had looked at him with such promise that he thought he really was doing the right thing.

“Sure, sweetheart,” his mother had said, frail hand going through his untamed curls she’d try so hard to brush through. “Let’s go to the beach.”

His mother had picked him up, holding him against her chest with a strength Billy didn’t know she had. They were going to the water so he didn’t think much of it, even if their day clothes were still on and his slippers were dangling off his feet. A big wave hit his back. The sea was wild that day, he remembers. But his mother kept going. Billy was scared.

“Let’s go back, mommy. It’s not safe. I don’t want to go in there,” he’d said.

Cheryl shushed him. “It’s okay, baby,” she said, holding him tighter. “Everything is going to be okay. Where we’re going there won’t be any pain anymore. Isn’t that amazing? We’ll be fine, Billy. You just gotta trust mommy, sweetheart.”

Billy stopped fidgeting. Until he felt another wave reaching his neck. He almost swallowed the salt water and his eyes burned from the strong wind.

“Please, mommy! I don’t want to, stop!” he screamed now. He had kicked her and grabbed her hair. Cheryl kept going.

A large wave engulfed them both, Billy could taste the salt water now. It went through his nostrils until it reached his throat. He panicked. He kicked Cheryl again, desperately tapping his legs so he could reach the surface.

She held tight until she didn’t. A current must have taken her by surprise. Or maybe she had realized what the fuck she was doing and saved Billy from her own madness. Billy doesn’t want to know.

A few bystanders had heard his screams and swam towards him. Billy was quickly brought to the shore where they pushed on his chest till everything bad was out of him. He remembers whimpering, crying.

“Where’s mommy? Go get her! She’s still in there! I want my mommy! Please, she’s still in there!”

A week later the police contacted his father about finding a female body a few miles over the place of the “accident”. They had a funeral with a closed casket. Neil laid off Billy for a few months after that. Till Billy said something wrong, or did something wrong, or looked too sad, too happy, too much like a bitch or a faggot. There were so many reasons he eventually stopped making sense of them.

 

* * *

 

Billy doesn’t like beaches as much anymore.

Which is just fine. There are other ways to have fun.

It’s a couple of years before his friends introduce him to smoking. He hates it. The awful taste sticks at the back of his throat for the whole day. Billy almost tries inducing the vomit. But remembers his father will probably smell it in the sink and decides against it. He smokes a couple more. It’s not long before he gets the hang of it. In a way, it’s relaxing. Untightens his muscles, keeps his mind off his father. It becomes Billy’s favorite thing to do after school.

And he’s been in fights before. They seem like little spats now. Billy’s swings are vicious stomps, deep bruises form under his kicks. It gets so bad his knuckles end up bloody afterwards. But he wins. Every. Goddamn. Time. His blood gets so hot he starts laughing in the middle of it.

Eventually, people learn not to piss off Billy Hargrove. It’s exciting. Watching people freeze if you stare too long.

At fourteen, he fucks for the very first time. Too good and too fast; like every first time for boys is. The girl, Stacey Brown, is cool about it though. She’s a few years older and doesn’t mind sharing whatever wisdom she has in the bed department. Teaches him how to last longer. How to get a girl to actually cum. Of course, it doesn’t last.

Stacey’s parents find out about her less than holy endeavors and send her away. Billy doesn’t see her again.

Doesn’t matter, anyway. He takes Stacey’s words to heart. He gets so good at it by sixteen he has every chick throwing themselves at him. Sometimes, he even gets in fights with the cows’ current boyfriend. It’s fine. Another reason to get his blood pumping.

Yeah, it was good to be King.

Of course, good things never last, do they?

They had to move. Right after the “incident”, Neil calls it. Because saying your kid put another kid in the hospital kind of downgrades you as a father. It’s a pride thing. And if your kid leaves town with a few extra bruises than he came with, what’s the difference, right? They’re easy to cover up and not directly indicative of fault.

Billy Hargrove is still not his father. Because even when Max told on him, _even after what he did was to protect her_ , even when his vision started seeing red and he wanted to _break_ something, he didn’t hit her. He yelled. He warned her. But he **didn’t** fucking hit her.

Not like his father, who slapped Susan a little too hard when she kept insisting they didn’t have to move so far away.

“Are you trying to be dumb on purpose? You think any of us are going to keep living normally now that this shithead went and put a kid in the hospital? We’re lucky the parents aren’t taking this bullshit to court. Because then none of us could show our faces outside ever again! People are already looking at me like this fuckup is my fault! _No._ We need to move somewhere were nobody knows how much of a mess he’s made. And that’s final.”

So, they moved. To this shithole called Hawkins. Appropriate since it does smell like actual shit.

Billy knows the rules for when a new kid shows up: make a good impression or you’re screwed for the rest of the year. Which, considering he’s in Hawkins, it’s not that hard to do. It’s almost too easy how quickly he catches the girls’ eyes and takes control of the guys’ hierarchy. This shit is practically given to him on a silver platter.

“Who the hell ran this town before me anyway?” he asks Tommy. Because, _really_? There was no top dog before him? _That_ smells like bullshit.

The guy laughs, like it’s such a silly thing to ask. He shuts up quick though, when Billy gives him a too long stare. Tommy scratches his jaw, brushing off the tension.

“I didn’t mean to laugh at you, dude. It’s just… There aren’t many guys like you out here. I mostly ran the show. But it’s just because nobody really stepped up, you know? The losers kind of stick to themselves.”

“Kind of?”

"Well..." Tommy hesitates, and it gives Billy pause. “Steph used to run with us before she went full on girl crush on Nathan Wheeler and brought his geeky friends with her. Of course, now she only hangs out with those fuckers.”

“Him and Joan Byers.” Carol chimes in, being the annoying bitch she is. “She’s such a creep. She took pictures of us without either of us knowing, God! I think she’s a retard or something. Her brother went missing and she kept acting so weird. I was pretty sure she killed him off herself, but then the brat turned out to be alive. Nobody is too sure what happened. But it was some real weird shit. I would stay far away from them, Billy. They’re not the kind of people you can trust.”

It’s Billy turn to laugh. _Oh, man... If only you knew._ His attention goes back to that first name though. Steph. Kind of seems like she had more power than Tommy would like to admit. _Letting a girl boss you around, Tommy? You into that masochist shit?_

“So, Steph,” he says, taking his time. “Who’s Steph? And why is she hanging out with losers and creeps?”

“Oh, Stephanie Harrington. Real slut.” Tommy promptly introduces her. “She used to pick a new guy every week and then drop him. I mean, the only thing stopping her from making a move on me was my girl Carol. Really, she would have fucked _anybody_.”

_Yeah. I bet that was the only thing keeping her from fucking you. Sounds like you_ really _didn’t want it to happen either. God, Hawkins is full of pussies._

“Yeah,” Carol says, “I mean, she was my best friend and all. But, like, fucking was all she cared about. Used to blow guys in their cars after parties. Any guy who would give her attention, really. We tolerated her because of her big mansion. She’d invite us there _all the time_. It’s like she was obsessed with us or something. But she’d bring beer and had a pool, so we went. And everything was fine. Until she started dating that loser Nathan. Seriously. He’s a skinny, frail, loser.”

“You said that already,” Billy says, losing his patience.

“Right,” Carol says back, a little more slowly. “So, she starts dating Nathan. They fuck, like usual. And then he starts ignoring her. She gets worried he’s lost interest in her. Which, mind you, isn’t that hard to happen. So, we drive her to his house and she climbs to his bedroom window and guess who she sees lying next to him in bed?”

Billy doesn’t answer because he hates rhetorical questions.

“Joan Byers! So, Steph freaks out, starts yelling guys are all the same. And me, being the good friend that I am, give her the suggestion of getting payback. She likes that. Later, Tommy drives us to the movie theater and we spray paint _Joan Byers The Whore_ all over “All The Right Moves”, right? And we’re finishing up Nathan’s one in the back alley. When Nathan and Joan come running up and start screaming about it. Steph slaps Nathan and starts pushing on Joan, it gets so intense that Joan fucking Byers actually _punches_ her in the face!”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. It gets wild, dude! Like, an actual cat fight. It’s fucking nasty. There’s punches, scratching. Joan ends up going batshit crazy! Steph was lucky to get out of there alive. She was bleeding real bad.”

“Anyway, we drive her to the convenience store to get her some ice. And how does she thank us? By calling us assholes! I say, well, you’re one to talk, slut. She pushes me and Tommy has to intervene because Joan’s crazy must be contagious or something.”

“I had to, man. Had to throw her to the ground to get her to stop attacking Carol.”

Billy stares at Tommy with a newfound focus. “You hit girls, Tommy boy?” And his smile is anything but kind. Tommy takes a step back, waving his hands around like it’s going to stop anything.

“Uh, I-I mean, no. Of course not. I’ve never hit Carol. I was just protecting my girl, you know. I only slammed Steph against the car to get her off her.”

Billy licks his lips, towering over him. “I thought you threw her to the ground.”

It’s a comedic sight to see Tommy’s eyes widen so far into his eye socket. Even Carol is getting away from this cowardly bitch.

“Y-Yeah! I slammed her against the car and she slid into the ground. I-I didn’t use that much force or anything! She was just a lightweight.”

_Of course she’s a lightweight. She’s a fucking girl, you fucking idiot._

“Oh, is that so? Even when she was bloodied up and everything?”

This time Tommy doesn’t respond. Only swallows the saliva building up in his quivering mouth. The skin on his arms stand up. He’s two steps away from falling on his own ass. Billy keeps quiet on purpose, because he lives for these moments. It’s almost as fun as when he’s beating up some cocky asshole.

After a while though, he shows mercy on the guy.

“Tommy, I’m kidding!” Billy says, demeanor completely changed. “Learn to take a joke, man. You were shivering like a damn leaf.”

Tommy and Carol both laugh, still uncomfortable but willing to let it go. Because Billy is King now. And as the title dictates – he can do whatever the hell he wants.

During practice, Tommy doesn’t plant his feet. He goes straight to the ground in a loud crash. Coach tells everyone to stop playing while he goes to check on him. As it turns out, Tommy sprained his foot on the landing and is crying like a bitch about it.

_Huh_ , Billy thinks, _guess he was a lightweight too._

 

* * *

 

Billy Hargrove is losing his patience.

His fingers tap over the steering wheel, anger bubbling up. Max is being an annoying bitch, _again_. And it’s not _just_ Max. It’s everything, really. The incident. The move. His father. But Max is right there, and she’s once again acting like she’s holier than thou. It’s a direct line of attack. And Billy is just so damn angry.

“Whose fault was it that we’re here, uh?” he tells her, and he hopes she keeps quiet.

“Your fault”, she whispers, like he can’t fucking hear her.

It’s what breaks the dam.

Billy loses it. Screams in her face. Pretends to almost run over her little nerdy friends. And laughs about it. The knot inside him eases a little. Let’s him breathe. Adrenaline silences most of what’s locked up and hidden underneath.

Max is silent now. Her body is shivering, lips tightening into a thin line, eyes staring at the road so she won’t have to look at him. She’s scared, Billy knows it in an instant.

A part of him despises what he just did. Wants to punch himself in the jaw for scaring a little girl. But another part of him takes a sickening pleasure in seeing another person scared out of their mind. It reminds him it’s not _him_ in that seat. It’s not his body shivering or eyes building up with tears. Because _he_ did that. He’s in _control_.

He doesn’t know what to do with that part of himself. It works when he’s in fights. He can lose himself in it, because the bastard on the other side of his fist? He most certainly deserves it. But with Max? Hell, with any other girl? He cannot lose himself when he’s around them. Because he knows. He knows what happens next. He’s seen it over and over again throughout his whole life.

Next comes a shove, a slap, a fist, a kick. He’s heard the cries and the begging. And he doesn’t want to see _that_ ever again. Because Billy is **_not_** like his father. He won’t let himself go that far. He would rather die than lay a hand on Max. And he means it.

When they arrive home it’s not a surprise when Max goes straight to her room and locks the door. “It’s okay,” he wants to tell her, “It’s good to keep your distance from me.” Billy may be an asshole, but he’s a self-aware one. He knows he’s a piece of shit. That’s what pieces of shit do. Take a good thing and ruin it. Like what Neil did with his mother.

He’s glad Max knows what he is and is doing something about it.

(Billy also knows he’s probably going to die soon. Either by the accidental push of Neil’s anger or by his own. He thinks driving while intoxicated is a good bet. As it turns out, self-awareness is a morbid thing.)

He goes to lift some weights and turns the music up a notch.

Susan arrives a little late than usual. “Sorry, they needed me at work,” she says, right on queue. It’s something Neil ingrained in her head early in their marriage. It stops the “friendly” shoves, most of the time.

His father, of course, likes to stay out a little longer after work. Drinking beers with a few of his buddies. But _he_ can do that, not Susan. Susan needs to get home. Otherwise, dinner is not cooked on time. And Neil really _hates_ that.

“It’s okay,” Billy says, “I’ve already peeled the potatoes and carrots. You could just pop it into the oven and it will be a done deal.”

Susan smiles. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

They both like to pretend that Billy didn’t find her with a bruised arm and a red cheek last time Neil had to wait for dinner. It was a school week and he had woken up earlier for a run. She had begged him not to tell Max. He had simply shrugged and handed her an ice pack.

From then on, Billy made a head start on dinner every time Susan was late. It was like their own winking game. _Let’s do dinner on time before Neil starts getting angry_ game.

“Oh, yeah. No problem, Susan,” he tells her and goes back to weight lifting. He prefers to be there when Neil arrives. If Billy is there, there’s not much of a direct line of attack. His anger won’t be as bad if there are two people in the room. It bounces them off equally. It’s never _that_ bad this way.

Billy learned that early on, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, glad you all took time to read this & hope you stick around for more!
> 
> And yeah, I'm going to address the racist quotations regarding his behavior with Lucas soon. From what I understand, the Duffer brothers wanted to have a racist subplot this season but then they scratched it out?? And Dacre said in interviews Billy is protecting Max in his own twisted way and that it's more of a "remaining top dog" kind of attitude. With that said, I'm creating my own reasons for it since this is fanfiction and I can do whatever the hell I want with it. 
> 
> Oh, don't worry. It's going to be sad. And it's going to involve Neil. Because everything bad and tragic involves that piece of shit.


	2. Pretty Face(s) Catching My Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Billy first spots Steph, he’s somewhat disappointed.
> 
> She looks just like any other girl in Hawkins. Hell, like any other girl he’s ever laid eyes on. Too much hairspray, lip gloss shining through a mile away, walking out of a car that costs more than Neil’s house mortgage. Okay, maybe that last one is just her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is when I start having fun with this fic. Also, I try to write smut here. Semi-smut anyway. Apologies for sucking at it (maybe)!
> 
> Beta'd by @Fluffinson

When Billy first spots Steph, he’s somewhat disappointed.

She looks just like any other girl in Hawkins. Hell, like any other girl he’s ever laid eyes on. Too much hairspray, lip gloss shining through a mile away, walking out of a car that costs more than Neil’s house mortgage. Okay, maybe that last one is _just_ her. Either way, he knows her type.

The spoiled bratty mean girl. The one who sets herself out to be the queen bee, wreaking havoc among the ones she doesn’t take a fancy to, hand-picking her boyfriends so the crown looks good on the decoration.

And by the way Tommy kept bitching about her, “She was just a cunt, man. Waving her hand around like she owned the place. Giving us orders like we were her dogs or some bullshit,” it didn’t seem that far off.

Of course, Billy also responded with: “I don’t know, Tommy. By the way you keep mentioning her it seems like you were a lovesick puppy after all.”

He couldn’t help but grin when he heard Carol shouting at Tommy after he excused himself to take a piss.

Girls like Steph were also the ones who got this naïve idea that they could change Billy.

“I know you can be better than this,” they all say. But, really, if Billy wasn’t this fucked up they wouldn’t have taken a second glance at him. It’s like they’re _obsessed_ with the idea of remodeling someone. Scraping out the pieces they don’t like and replacing them with things that don’t even fit. As if to say, “Look everyone! Look at this toy I’ve made. And I did it all by _my own fucking self_.” It was surreal. Like getting everything they’ve ever wanted had made them incapable of seeing people as _people_.

He got some quickies out of it though, so he wasn’t exactly complaining.

However, as soon as he spots a skinny arm going around Steph’s waist he takes a second look.

Carol did say Nathan was a nerd. But Jesus, the guy screamed _throw my books to the floor and shove me into lockers_.

He wasn’t ugly, per se. His features were soft, almost delicate. Brown hair pushed back so the steel blue eyes could take center stage. Red lips that breached a white smile. Yeah, he was cute. For a bitch. Probably the type of guy you’d bring home to your parents. But his clothes were too big. Made whatever muscles he had disappear completely. The shirt was buttoned all the way up. And his pants weren’t long enough to hide those ugly maroon socks.

There was also something off about him. Billy couldn’t put his finger on it, though. It was the way he lingered too much into Steph. Like he was compensating for something. As if this was all a play and he had forgotten his lines. (Yeah, he knew his type too. Guys who act all nice and sweet, but actually resent the hell out of you.)

It really threw Billy for a loop. The contrast was mind-fucking-boggling.

Look at Steph. With her voluminous and wavy hair, brown doe eyes, freckles and moles flickered across her skin. And those pretty pink lips. Would probably look too red and swollen if you kissed them long enough. She even dressed nice. High-waist jeans with a grey fluffy sweater. Cute navy jacket around her shoulders. Billy admitted it full heartedly, she was pretty. Especially for that geeky Wheeler. Too pretty. (As if somebody grazed that skin too hard it would all fall apart.) 

Plus, she didn’t give a fuck about Carol and her friends’ dirty looks. Or how guys would leer when she crossed by. Steph walked like none of that mattered. Graceful but with attitude. Like one of those old cartoony princesses.

 _Seriously_ , Billy thinks, staring at her ass when they pass by him during lunch, _the guy must have some game or he’s really good at eating pussy._

 

* * *

 

Billy spots the happy couple again at the Halloween party.

He’s just showed Hawkins how to do a keg stand, ending up with beer glistering from his jaw to his stomach. And guess what? He’s actually having fun. The music is loud. Alcohol hits Billy’s brain, making everything all warm and hyper. Everybody is shouting his name.

He feels fucking invincible.

Billy takes a drag of his cigarette before entering the house, his body bumping at the beat of the music. God, he feels good. A King. There’s nothing that can make this better. That is.

Whilst his hands are getting acquainted with the hanging toilet paper, his eyes search the room. That’s when he spots them.

By his right, Steph is chatting up with her geeky Wheeler. Her front strands are tied to the back of her head, long locks flowing downwards. She’s wearing a white dress – or maybe it’s a white sweater with a white skirt? Billy can’t really tell by this angle – and a black ribbon is tied to the front of her collar. She looks downright adorable. In a Hawkins way.

Nathan, on the other hand, is wearing something too big for him, again. A black blazer with a black t-shirt. Dark sunglasses framing his face, too awkward on him to make it look cool.

Steph laughs at something and lifts them from his face, planting the sunglasses on herself. She grins. But Nathan still looks uncomfortable. Like he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place. He’s nodding at whatever Steph is saying, but his eyes look unfocused. Glancing above her head every five seconds.

That’s when he catches Billy’s glare. Billy keeps staring.

In fact, he keeps the eye contact while he marches up to them. Walking up a couch just because he’s that determined to make the shithead flinch. He doesn’t.

Steph turns to her left just as Billy reaches them.

“We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington,” says Tommy, magically appearing by Billy’s side.

He shouldn’t be surprised. Tommy’s glued to his hip since he showed up. He probably thinks some of Billy’s coolness will rub off on him if he tries hard enough. Spoiler alert: it won’t. (Either that or he’s really a bitch in heat for Steph.)

At Tommy’s comment, Steph takes out the sunglasses in such a dramatic fashion Billy would think he’s robbed her of something.

…Wait.

“Right,” she says, clearly annoyed, this time staring right at Billy. She keeps staring.

He laughs. Hawkins’ former Keg King was a preppy, rich, princess? Oh, this town has its surprises alright.

“Hey, dude,” Nathan speaks up, finally. “How about you go bother somebody else?”

Billy’s eyes leave princess’s to look at the boyfriend in question. His jaw is clenched shut. Hands inside his pockets. Eyes still too hazy for a guy who has his girl surrounded by a bunch of dudes. Immediately, Billy takes a deep disliking to him. If before there was some small drop of respect for a loser like him getting a hot piece of ass like Steph, it’s gone. _Fuck this guy._

“You know what, Wheeler,” he says, pointing his cigarette at him. “I will bother whoever the hell I like. And if you have anything to say about it, maybe we should go outside, uh? That sound cool to you?”

Nathan frowns, showing some kind of emotion. His hands move out of the pockets, trembling as they turn into fists. Billy’s smiling already. It was about time he finally got some action. _Shout at the Devil_ gets louder as both take a step forwards.

Steph’s hand brushes over Nathan’s fist, her eyes softening as she looks at him. He bows his head, body losing its momentum. His back hits the wall. Eyes stuck to the floor as if it’s too hard to look up.

“Wheeler,” he says, glee in his voice, “Don’t tell me you’re the bitch in this relationship.”

Steph’s face turns fast. Expression seething. She looks like she’s about to cuss Billy out.

However, something quickly changes. Eyebrows go up, mouth quirking up to the side as Steph tilts her head. She’s eyeing Billy from head to toe.

Wow, he did _not_ expect for his charm to work _that_ fast. But hey, when in Rome.

“See something you like?” he asks, giving her a small wink.

Her answer, though, confuses him. “Very original.”

“What is?”

“The bad boy persona,” she tells him, pointing the sunglasses at him. “I mean, the leather jacket, stupid one side earing, showing off your abs like it’s not freezing cold. And judging by the amount of beer all over your chest, the horrible headache and multiple trips to the toilet you’re going to have to do tomorrow.” Steph snickers. “Is the mullet a part of it, too?”

Now, Billy has dealt with annoying bitches before. He’s dealt with so many of them, in fact, he knows how to remain calm when they start saying stupid shit. Especially when some cow starts screaming and crying about leaving her; even though he was pretty straightforward about the whole _one night stand_ thing. But the mullet? He takes that comment personal.

“Ah, I see,” he tells her, “Is this how you got all the guys to follow you around? By being a mean tease? Pulling your skirt up just to drop it again when they get close?”

“Once again,” she says, rolling her eyes, “How original. Really. The macho chauvinistic vibe you’re floating about. Never saw it before in my life.”

“Isn’t that cute.” Billy bites out. “You think you still run this town?”

Steph scoffs, “So sorry, Keg King. Didn’t mean to spit on your glass shoes.”

He takes another drag of his cigarette. Blood’s pumping, music drowning out in the background. Billy is getting angry. And excited. He likes girls with a little fire in them. That Wheeler guy, though, is another story entirely. His apathetic stance is giving him the heebie-jeebies.

“What’s wrong, Wheeler?” he asks, smiling now. “Why are you so quiet? Don’t tell me seeing your girl being talked down to gives you a hard on. Or maybe you just like watching. Maybe that’s your thing. Jacking off to the side while you watch a guy ramming it into your girl.”

He does not expect the push. But then again, maybe he should have. Nathan does look like the kind of pussy who would give a lousy shove instead of punching someone’s lights out. Billy chuckles as it barely does anything at all.

He grabs Nathan by the collar of his blazer and gets right into his face.

“Did I hit a fucking nerve, Wheeler?” he says, laughing. “Never made your girl cum before? That’s okay, buddy. We all can’t have big dicks like me.”

“Let go of him you fucker.” Steph snarls. Getting a hand over his chest and pushing him away from her darling geeky Wheeler. Billy goes. But only because he would like to taunt the princess a little further.

“Hey, maybe I’m wrong! Maybe it’s not _just_ your fault,” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air in an almost friendly gesture. “I mean, your girl has fucked, like, 90% of guys at school, right? That’s a tough spot to fill, amigo. Your dick may just be fine. But she has sucked so many of them that it’s near impossible to satisfy her needs.”

Nathan tries to seize Billy’s jacket, but Steph stops him. “It’s not worth it, Nate. _Stop it_. Babe, please. Let’s just go.” The sweet boyfriend is acting like he gives a shit! Billy gives it a slow clap for the performance. Steph shoots him an angry stare, “And _you_ can go drop dead, Hargrove.”

Princess says it with such intensity she might actually mean it. Billy licks his lips as they walk away, howling “Watch out, Wheeler. Your girl may actually have more balls than you!”

Steph guides Nathan away from the crowd. Probably to some vacant bathroom to calm him down. Billy doesn’t think he needs it. He’s already wearing that foggy look of his.

“That was awesome!” Tommy says, slapping his hand against his shoulder. Leaving it there. Billy winces. “Finally, somebody put Steph in her place.”

He smiles. “Yeah, some bitches just need to be reminded of who they are.” He says, looking straight at Tommy. He seems to take the hint when he releases his hand from Billy’s shoulder. Shaking it off like it’s been burned.

 

* * *

 

Throughout the night his hatred for Nathan Wheeler only grows.

His hazy eyes are more unfocused every time he takes a chuck out of that red cup. Steph is trying to distract him by putting her hands around his neck and swinging her hips from side to side. Laughing. Like he gives a shit about her. He only becomes grumpier. Gives it a few minutes of reluctant dancing before going to refill his cup.

 

* * *

 

 

He doesn’t get to watch as an extraordinarily drunk Nathan fights with Steph about stopping him before he ends up in an alcohol-induced coma. A red splash appears on Nathan’s dark shirt as a result. He then stumbles upstairs like the pathetic bitch he is.

Carol and Tommy describe it in great detail the next morning though. Carol wheezing like a hyena. “You should have seen Steph’s face! So confused and dumb. As if she was a little lost Bambi. God, those two are a joke.”

No, Billy didn’t get to _see_ any of that. He was outside having a smoke, taking a break from all the guys’ neediness. Sometimes, he swears, they are worse than girls.

He’s on his second cig when Steph comes busting out the door. Steps quick and heavy. It takes him a second before he throws the butt away and follows her.

It’s funny. Her shoes make this squeaky sound that completely change her whole demeanor. She’s like this cartoon character who always looks too cute when mad. The pin at the back of her head is even falling out of her hair. He laughs. Maybe he’s just that fucking drunk.

“Hold up, princess!” he calls, catching up to her. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

Steph stops. Stares up at him with the frowniest face he’s ever seen. He can’t help it, he keeps laughing.

“What the fuck do you want, Hargrove?”

He looks around, legs wobbling for a while before they find their place. “Where’s your pussy boyfriend?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Inside. Calling everything _bullshit_ ,” her voice wavers at the last word. Billy finds himself frowning too. “Why do you even care?”

“I don’t. I was just curious,” he says, smiling. “Oh man, that boy really can’t handle his alcohol, can he?”

Steph hums, resignation taking over her pretty face. “ _Nope_. That’s for damn sure. The only sure thing of this whole fucking night.”

He might truly be a bit tipsy. The only thing his brain seems to gather is that that bastard should get his nose broken for worrying such a pretty thing. That, and the pretty thing in front of him. _Fuck_ , he thinks, _her eyes are so brown and sweet and big. What the fuck. Are they even real? And those fucking freckles... She looks like a real life princess. What. The. Actual. Fuck._

“Let me drive you home,” he says, before he can even stop himself.

Steph blinks, twice. “Excuse me?”

“I said,” he says, more slowly so she can fully understand. “Let me drive you home.”

“Oh, no. I got that,” she says, becoming frowny face again. “I also know what _let me drive you home_ is code for. And I would rather suck on a rusty nail than ever get my face close to your crotch.”

“Jesus, Harrington!” Billy shouts, “I was just doing my civic duty as a fellow classmate. Not my fault your mind is always in the gutter.”

Steph laughs, but it’s not like before. When she was near that geeky Wheeler. It’s colder, detached. Billy doesn’t like that sound coming out of her mouth.

“Who the fuck told you about the blowjobs in the car anyway?”

He blinks. It takes him a while for his brain to associate the question. “Oh, _that_. Your caring ex best friend told me the first day I got here.”

The princess laughs again, and it’s only gotten colder. She swipes a hand over her pink mouth. Laughs some more. “God, what a fucking bitch.”

“Ditto.” He agrees. Carol _is_ a fucking bitch.

That gives Steph pause. She bites her lip, slips her hand through her hair, tilts her face like Billy’s just said something uncompressible. He doesn’t _think_ he did. He’s not _that_ drunk to be spouting unpronounceable shit, right?

“Seriously, Hargrove,” she says, sighing. “What do you want?”

Billy wants a lot of things. He wants for his mother not be six feet under. For his father to stop being such a piece of shit. To actually be a decent older brother to Max. Make a name for himself and not be remembered as this little fuck up whose greatest accomplishment was going 90 on a crowded highway while getting his dick sucked.

Yes, Billy wants a lot of things. But he also knows he can’t get any of them. He’s past all that now. If anything, he’s _relieved_. The pressure of having to act accordingly is no longer upon his shoulders. He’s already been branded too much of a trouble to have any kind of fix. Essentially, he can do whatever the hell he wants. Consequences be damned.

Speaking of which.

“Look. I’ll admit. You’re pretty. A hot piece of ass, even. Who’s had a shitty night at a shitty party with her shitty boyfriend. But _baby_ , I can turn this whole night back around. Trust me, customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed.” He flashes the smile that always seems to get the ladies wet, voice dropped to an octave or two for good measure.

But Steph isn’t smiling. Nor does she seem to be creaming in her pants right now.

“Jesus Christ,” she says, that ugly laugh back again. “You’re fucking serious? Has that line ever worked before?”

“Once or twice,” he admits. “Some ladies appreciate being upfront.”

“Wow,” Steph says, teeth baring. “And what, you were going to drive me home and lay me on a bed of rose petals, make sweet love to me _all night long_ so I can forget all about my troubles?”

Billy shrugs. “I would have been happy with a sloppy blowjob. But yeah, sure, we can fuck.”

Something changes in Steph. She grows quiet, keeps starting at him. It’s unsettling.

Until the frowny eyebrows fade away, a strange glint filling her eyes as she approaches Billy. Front row teeth graze her lower lip. Steph licks the bite away once her finger touches Billy’s chest.

“Aren’t you gentleman,” she says. And her voice sounds… different. Higher. Sweeter. Like honey dripping over warm pancakes. “Just look at you. With your bright blue eyes and handsome face. Girls must _swoon_ over you.”

“I do alright,” he says, throat suddenly going dry.

“Oh, I bet it’s more than alright.” One finger turns to two as they each run over his abs. Still sticky with the beer he drooled over himself. “I bet they’re the ones who end up screaming by the end. I bet you just know when to go _slow_ and when to go _hard_. I _just_ bet you make out with their pussies before fucking them, right?” She takes the fingers to her pink pretty lips and sucks on them. Steph sounds like she’s tasting the best thing in her entire life.

Billy’s mouth forgets how to function.

“Would you do that for me?” she asks, fingers coming up to brush against his Adam’s apple. “Would you eat me out? Leave your mouth glistering as you kiss me after, sliding right into my wet pussy. Still so _tight_ for you. And the sounds! I bet my pussy would be making a lot of happy noises. My mouth too.” She places them over his open lips. He thinks he should speak.

“Sure,” he says, tongue slightly wetting her fingers.

“Would you bite me, Billy?” she asks, and his name never sounded fucking better. “Would you suck a big dark mark right into my neck?” Her wet fingers go to that very same sport. And God, he’s getting hard. “I would have to wear a scarf to school, but we both know what would be underneath it, wouldn’t we. I bet you would _love_ to kiss some bruises into my thighs for covering them up in the first place.”

“Yeah,” he squeaks, eyes getting darker.

Steph smiles a sweet smile and looks down. Her eyes widen, tongue wetting her lower lip.

“You’re so hard, _baby_ ,” she sighs, hand covering his crotch. “Want me to get on my knees? Right now? I could, you know. Go down on my knees and bring your big fat cock right into my mouth. For everyone to see _exactly_ who these lips belong to. Would you like that, baby?” her voice is whispering into his ear now, blowing cold air. “Would you like me to call you King while you cum all over my face?”

“God, yes!” he practically screams.

But instead of Steph going down, she squeezes his dick. Too hard. It actually kind of hurts.

“Too bad, baby,” she coos, chuckling. “You’re shitfaced, Hargrove. I’ll be driving myself home.”

And she just takes off. Expression serene. Like none of that sweet talk ever happened.

“You’re a cunt!” he screams her way.

Steph turns her head back, strands covering her white sharp teeth. “At least I’m not the doucebag with a _boner_ for said cunt!” And she keeps walking.

Billy starts cursing. Stomping his legs around in a tantrum. It takes him a whole ten minutes before he gets his dick to do as he says. And even then, he finds the next slutty brown eyed girl to take care of the issue. He pulls it off. But with the image of connecting Steph’s beauty marks with his cum.

Billy is in a mood for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should be called "Billy Has a Crush" or "Steph Takes None of Billy's Shit". Not sure which I prefer. And just now realized Nancy's actions towards Steve seem A LOT WORSE if the genders are reversed.. Go figure.
> 
> Also, don't worry, it's next chapter I go further on Billy's backstory and why he reacts to Lucas the way he does. Spoiler: It's because of Neil (fuck Neil).


	3. Remind Myself In The Smudged Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he could be honest with himself, Billy’s not that surprised he’s gone and gotten himself a little obsessed with Preppy Princess Steph. He has a type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. This chapter is finally going to dive deep into Billy's past. Prepare yourselves. I think I've turned Neil into a worse human being than he was before. Oops!
> 
> Beta'd by @Fluffinson (once again, you're so great!)

He spots the not so happy couple the day after.

Coach is forcing them to take a few laps around the court. Something about building up team spirit through shared struggle? Or maybe he was just pissed at his wife this morning. It’s freezing cold, so Billy is wearing a t-shirt this time around. He hates _all_ of it.

On his third lap his eyes wander to the back of the gym. Nathan is frozen on the spot. Steph is in front of him, saying something he cannot hear. Billy can tell she’s pissed, though. Her arms are crossed over her chest, doing the frowny face from last night. 

When he comes back around Nathan is still in his place. But Steph is turning the corner, heading towards the back entrance. On her third step she glances upwards. Billy holds her gaze. Her brown eyes are shining, slightly red. Front teeth scraping her lower lip. She’s trembling.

Billy’s eyes fall to the ground. When they go up again, Steph is gone.

 

His mind keeps going back to that _deer-in-the-headlights_ look. Billy imagines Nathan told her about the dark-haired beauty – Joan Byers, was it? – who drove his ass home.

Creep Joan, Carol likes to whisper when she crosses her way. He thinks she may be a little bit more than obsessed with that specific weirdo. Who the fuck knows in this town.

(Both she and Tommy have some deep-seated, unresolved issues he doesn’t want to get in the middle of.)

Billy had just finished blowing his load when he looked out the window. There he was. Drunk, geeky Wheeler in all his glory. Grabbing unto Joan like an octopus. Legs flopping about. And yet, Joan managed to hold all of his weight. Lifting him almost effortlessly from the ground a couple of times.

As she slid Nathan into the passenger seat and did his seat belt, Billy had a sudden realization. This was not the first time Joan did something like this.

He had heard the Byers family was the go to for gossip in this hick town. _Way_ before the youngest child in the family went missing. How Joyce’s former husband had to be dragged from a closing bar by his own wife most nights. How their daughter kept turning up with these mysterious bruises almost every month. How all of that shit stopped when Joyce kicked him out one sunny morning, shotgun ready to fire, if he didn’t get in his car and drive the fuck away from Hawkins.

Billy knows. Knows the look Joan gives Carol whenever she hears her whisper those dirty words. Is very acquainted with the buildup anger that makes you want to _mess_ something up. Knows the silent response isn’t one of cowardliness.

Carol doesn’t know how lucky she is. If Billy had been in Joan’s place, Carol probably wouldn’t have any teeth left to open her stupid mouth.

He also saw the way Nathan kept brushing his head against Joan’s cheek. How he leaned on Joan’s shoulder as they were driving away.

Billy really can’t put his head around it. How does a selfish bastard like that get two astounding girls pinning over him?

It’s decided. During lunch Billy is going to give Nathan a nice broken noise, maybe a black eye too, if he’s in the mood.

But neither him nor silent Joan are anywhere to be found.

“They must have run off together,” Tommy says. And Carol adds, “Oh no. Poor sweet Bambi!”

Both giggle hysterically. Right until Billy slaps his lunch tray against the table. Then, they just look like two scared rats.

Billy gets up, grabbing a cig out of his front pocket. “I’m going for a smoke.”

Carol must think he’s out of ear shot because he can hear her saying “What the fuck is his problem?”

 _You two fucking assholes_.

 

He finds Steph. Universe did like to mess with people like that. She’s sitting alone on the top of the bleachers, pink fingernails skewing over a large book. Mouth occupied with some gross looking sandwich. He decides to come up and say hello.

Billy can hear Steph groaning before he even reaches the second row.

“You just don’t give up, do you?” she says to him. But the bite from yesterday is gone. Billy thinks she may even be amused.

“Not in my motto, no.” He responds, sitting next to her. His eyes waver down to the pages over her lap, it’s a Chem book. Filled with yellow and green highlights. Some stick figures drawn at the corners; a guy fighting some huge flower, it seems. Billy’s mouth quirks up a little. “You studying, princess?”

“I need to up my grades this semester. And the next. God knows I haven’t been the best at anything these last couple of years.” Steph’s voice is dispassionate and calm. But Billy notices it. How two of her fingers grip the middle of the page, twisting it up and down so much small wrinkles are forming on it.

“Uh. If I knew you were in such trouble, I would have offered my tutoring lessons sooner.”

Princess’s eyebrows go up. “You?”

“Yeah, me. Don’t let my coolness fool you, sweetheart. I get As and Bs.” With Neil around he hadn’t had much choice. “It’s easy when you figure out the _whys_. Most teachers can explain it better when it’s just a one-on-one session.”

He’s kind of embarrassed, revealing this to her. Billy breathes in the smoke before staring at Steph again. He’s surprised to find a smile beginning to touch her rosy cheeks.

“Look at you,” she says, “A leather wearing nerd.”

“Look at you,” he repeats back at her, “A preppy princess with Keg King status.”

She snickers, almost dropping her disgusting store bought sandwich. “It’s not like it was hard to get the title in the first place. Have you seen Tommy after a couple of beers?”

“I did,” he lets out a small chuckle, “He was sprawled on the lawn making out with a bottle.”

“Wow. Did Carol freak out?”

“Nah. She was too busy bitching about him to some guy in a kilt.”

Steph laughs. It’s a clear bright sound, so much unlike the night before, he ends up laughing along with her. It’s weird. The normalcy of it.

“Why are you worried about your grades, though? Aren’t your parents rich? You’re set for life, Harrington.”

She shakes her head, “And how would you know about my parents? Has Carol been saying shit about them?”

“Princess,” he says, blowing the smoke into the air. “I’ve seen the kind of car you drive.”

Billy didn’t think it was possible, but her pink cheeks get even pinker.

“Oh,” she whispers, closing the book. “Guess that’s a dead giveaway, huh?”

He takes another drag out of his cig, letting Steph talk herself out of whatever embarrassing _I-have-too-much-money_ panic every rich person has.

“It’s not like… I don’t want to rely on my parents forever, okay? I’m not… Look, I don’t know how California valley girls act but I’m not one of them, alright? I want to do something. Something meaningful. Not sure what that is yet…but something meaningful! And who are you to judge, huh? You don’t know me, Hargrove. I’m not going to become some trophy wife or a desperate bachelorette or a bimbo with air for a brain, got it? Why are you laughing? Is this amusing to you? _Stop laughing_. Seriously, what’s your damage, Billy? None of this is fucking funny! Stop laughing!”

Smoke leaks out from gentle chuckles. Even without all the booze in his veins, Billy still thinks Steph just stepped out of a Saturday morning cartoon.

“Relax, princess,” he tells her, “No need to get your panties in a twist. So you’re rich. Big fucking deal. You’re not intimidating anyone, you know.”

She crosses her legs. “Really. Could have sworn I got you riled up last night.”

He grins, “Oh, sweetie. Sorry to burst your bubble, but you aren’t the first nor the last chick to get me hard. You’re just good at it,” he blows some smoke in her direction, purposely popping his lips outwards, “Must be from all that experience you have.”

Her smile falls. And Billy finds himself regretting what he just said.

Steph quickly recovers though, tucking her book and half-eaten sandwich into her bag, chuckling that ugly sound. “Didn’t know pulling a girl’s pigtails was still a thing, Hargrove. But it’s okay. Glad to know you’re capable of not being an asshole for exactly ten seconds.”

She gets up and leaves, her white sneakers rattling the benches behind her. Billy fights with his conscience for five minutes before he stomps down on his cigarette. Follows Steph.

She’s opening her car door when he reaches her. He slams it down.

“What the fuck—“

“Listen, I’m sorry,” he says, looking at the stubborn strands stuck on her cheek, “I was being a dick.”

Steph’s eyes squint at the apology. “Is this your big move? Be a jerk and then butter up a girl so she can suck your small dick?”

He taps his hand against the car ceiling, probably too hard. “Come on, princess! It’s not like that. I already know Wheeler’s dick is the only one you’re crazy for.”

She flinches back at the mention of the pussy’s name. Billy feels kind of shitty about that too. Her car keys get crushed between her small hands. “Yeah, well… Guess that’s over with too.”

“He didn’t deserve you anyway,” he says, trying to play nice for once.

However, being nice seems to backfire. Steph looks at him like she could just strangle his fucking neck.

“And how the fuck do you know that, huh? You’ve met me once, Hargrove. At a stupid Halloween party! I’m sure Carol and Tommy have filled you in _all_ about my slutty past and bitchy attitude.”

“Hey, look—“

“The thing is – they’re right! All of the shitty things they’ve said about me? Probably, mostly true. I was trash way before you walked into Hawkins, Mr. Shining Armor. But Nate? Nate made me better, got it? Nathan made me not want to be such a tragedy anymore. Nate is sweet and kind and everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy. You’re wrong, Hargrove. I’m not the one who’s too good for him. It’s exactly the other way around. Nate helped me. He helped me and I couldn’t do the same thing for him.”

Along the way her eyes choose the floor for a view, clutching the car handle so hard her knuckles are turning white. It irritates him. It irritates him because that’s the same shit his mother used to pull.

“That is such a load of bullshit, Harrington.” His nostrils are flaring. “It stinks so bad all the other cows flout in the other direction.”

Steph’s angry stare is back, along with a sneer. “You would know about bullshit, Billy Hargrove. I stink? You look like you live in it.”

It’s instinctive, the way he grabs Steph by the arm.

 _It’s instinctive_ , he says to himself.

It’s instinctive, for as soon Steph’s eyes widen in fear he lets go. Takes a few steps back not to crowd her.

It’s instinctive.

He doesn’t say anything. Even though princess seems to be waiting for him to. Glossy mouth slightly parted, doe eyes softening up at him. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he walks away. Billy’s already proven how much Steph’s words ring true.

 

* * *

 

If he could be honest with himself, Billy’s not that surprised he’s gone and gotten himself a little obsessed with Preppy Princess Steph. He has a type.

Loves it when girls throw his shit right back at him.

Billy also loves a challenge. Makes victory taste a lot sweeter. Especially when he feels nails dig deep into his back, teeth marks left on his shoulder that last the day after, and the fucking boldness of throwing Billy on his back and riding him till they get their fill. It’s fucking addicting, is what it fucking is.

There was one girl who had him paralyzed from head to toe, however. Turned Billy into a tween girl with a crush. He smiled so much around her it began to hurt his cheeks.

Beth Abraham, was her name. She used to roll her eyes at whatever bullshit Billy had said that day. Forced him to drive around the same block twice, just because she could. Whisper dirty sweet things in his ear, only to leave him hanging right before class.

Yeah, that was his girl. Beth had deep brown eyes and darker hair. Long and curly. A gorgeous afro that used to bounce every time she’d ride him. Skin of the color of landini lilies, where hickeys seem to blend in it – so Billy always bit _harder_. Beth had loved his tenacity.

The worst of it all, it wasn’t just sex. Not really. It was spilling over infatuation, becoming something else.

They’d have nights where Beth – skin smelling of coconut after a long shower – would put on a Whitney Houston record and lay Billy’s head on her lap, brushing his hair while listening to whatever shit Billy had to get off his chest. In turn, Billy took her to the movies, clubs – anywhere she wanted to go – hushed her about any little worry Beth had about her future, kissing her forehead and the mole near her left eye.

Billy also kicked the ass out of any asshole who dared to say something about Beth’s skin that didn’t end in a compliment. Beth liked that part a little less.

“You don’t have to defend me, Billy,” she’d say, holding a bag of frozen peas over his fucked up eye. “I’ve been dealing with this shit my whole life. You learn to get used to it.”

“Nah, doll,” he’d say, smirking, even though it hurt to do so. “You got me now. Fuck getting used to it.”

“Oh, you’re going to beat up every racist in Cali, that it? Sounds plausible.”

“If I have to. That’s what I’ll do,” because he was just that fucking stubborn. And no one got to talk to his lady that way, _ever_.

She would sigh, just like every time Billy would do something stupid. “It’s not with violence you change minds, baby.”

“You see, that’s where we agree to disagree. If I hit them hard enough I’m sure—“

“Tell me again why I’ve picked the most stubborn, psychotic, infuriating, white boy to date.”

That had been a rhetorical question. But Billy hadn’t been able to contain himself.

“I think it was something about how good I was with my fingers—“

“Jesus Christ, Billy!”

“Or my tongue? I think my tongue was pretty good too.”

Those kind of comments would make her laugh. Even when she insisted she was _still mad_ at him. Billy would hug her then and lay his head on her chest, enjoying the sound of his girl’s beating heart.

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?” He would ask, voice wavering.

She wouldn’t acknowledge he was on the verge of crying. But she’d kiss the top of his head, caress the back of his neck.

“Of course not. You’re my Knight in Shining Armor,” she’d whisper, her rosy perfume engulfing his skin. “Now, let’s put more ice on your face so you can keep being the pretty boy that you are.”

Of course, as Billy has learned too well, good things don’t last.

It had been four months, twelve days, and two hours, when Neil finds out.

Billy already knows it’s coming when the door slams with a particular loud bang.

In retrospect, he should have been more careful about Beth. Neil didn’t go to KKK meetings or mistreat every black person he’d come across; Hell, _one of his drinking buddies was black_. But he had always looked sideways at interracial couples at the store, muttered slurs in the car when the dark skinned clerk at the bank refused one of his impossible demands.

Billy blames himself for this one. He had been fucking stupid. He had parked his car way too close to home. One of their neighbors had seen Billy give Beth a long smooch as they were getting ready to leave. That same concerning, thoughtful neighbor decided to let Neil know what his son was doing behind his back.

“You’ve been fooling around with some nigger whore,” he had said, not a question. The first thing that came out of his mouth the second he had closed the damn door. “Now, why would you go and do a thing like that, Billy? Do you enjoy embarrassing your old man? Is that what this is about?”

Billy’s fists had been inside his pockets, kept him from doing something stupid. “It’s nothing serious, dad.”

“Oh, then that makes everything alright! Like your dick isn’t already infected with whatever diseases that slut has.”

“Don’t,” he had grunted out, teeth clipping. 

That had made Neil grow quiet, too quiet for Billy’s liking. It got even worse when he had taken two steps forward, eyes glaring so hard they could have blown a hole right through Billy’s forehead.

“What did you just say to me?” he had asked.

And of course, Billy hadn’t been able to contain himself.

“Don’t talk about my girl that way,” and he had been smiling, no fucks given that day, “God knows she has better class than any of the chicks you bring home.”

He hadn’t been surprised when Neil had pushed him against the wall. Billy knows the sting that forms at the back of his head quite well by now.

“Is that how you talk to your old man? Haven’t I taught you, you need to show me respect, boy? Is that what it takes for you to go back to being a stupid brat? Some tramp’s pussy? Son, you need to wake up. That girl isn’t right for you. There are so many good, respectable girls of our own to choose from. You can do so much better. I know you can. Why don’t you trust your old man, Billy? I know what’s right for you.”

The fucked up part is that Neil believed what he had said. He thought he was actually _helping_ Billy. _He thinks he’s an honest to God good father with only his kid’s best interests in mind._ The whole thing had been so fucking ludicrous Billy had started to laugh. Which turned out to be, yet again, the wrong thing to do. Neil had punched him, let him go so he could drop to the floor.

Billy hadn’t expected the kick that came after. Or the next. Or the ones after that.

It all kept on coming. It felt like Neil was never going to stop. And he kept fucking screaming, “You think your mother would have wanted this for you, you little shit? You think she’d be proud of the fuck up you’ve become!? Disrespecting me, disobeying me, lying to me. Why don’t you just listen to what I tell you, huh? Answer me! _Fucking answer me, Billy!_ ”

He had been in so much pain and so scared, tears had started falling from his eyes. Billy hadn’t answered him. He couldn’t. He was so out of breath.

But he hadn’t been able to stay quiet either. His body hadn’t let him. Gasps and little sobs had been forcefully spilled from Billy.

Thinking back, maybe that’s why Neil kept on kicking. Because Billy was being a little bitch again.

All he had wanted was for the pain to stop. His mind had become so hazy through all of it. He remembers thinking he was six again, reaching out to long golden hair. _Mommy,_ he had screamed in his head. _Mommy, please don’t let him hurt me._

 

Eventually, Neil had to stop.

Billy had been hurting all over. Must have blacked out for a moment too. Because when he had opened his eyes again Neil had Billy’s arm over his shoulder, getting him into the passenger seat. They drove off. And Billy had momentarily thought that this was _it_. He was done for. Neil was going to finish the job somewhere else and drop his dead boy into the ocean. He remembers not thinking much about it. At least he would be joining Cheryl.

Turns out, Neil had been driving them to the hospital. He had even helped him out of the car. Dragged him to the emergency room, saying, “Please, help my son! Some punks jumped him. I came here as fast as I could.”

Billy had groaned at that. It had hurt too much to laugh.

He stayed in the hospital for a few days. The doctor had said he had a couple of cracked ribs. But the spilt lip was healing nicely and there was no signs of a concussion.

“You’re lucky your father found you when he did. Otherwise, I’m not sure you would have come out without any permanent injuries.”

Billy had smiled. That shark, white teeth smile.

A couple of cops had come by his room on his last day. Asked Billy if he wanted to press charges. His father had quickly intervened. “I appreciate your help, officers. But I think what my boy now needs is some rest. Adding fuel to the fire is only going to stress him out.”

The hot stuff with a pony tail had looked at him funny, glancing at her partner in a manner that spoke _can you believe this guy_. She pointedly ignored Neil and had turned to Billy.

“What those guys did to you was a serious offense, kid. You _should_ press charges. That way we can find the bastards that did this to you far quicker. Make sure they never do this sort of thing ever again.”

Billy had smiled at her too. _Oh, sweetie_ , he had thought, _the bastard that did this to me is right here, in this room. You could shoot him now. I won’t mind._

But he hadn’t said any of that. Instead, he had shook his head and glanced at his father. “It’s okay, officer. My dad is right. I should focus on my recovery for now. Involving the cops will only worsen things.”

She had looked at him with such soft eyes he had to look away.

When they had excused themselves, Billy saw her glaring at Neil while talking to her partner. She had probably done the math and figured out Neil was an abusive asshole. But since Billy wasn’t talking she couldn’t do anything about it. He remembers feeling quite shitty in that hospital bed. Had called himself a bitch so his father wouldn’t have to.

 

Neil was a lot nicer when they got home.

Opened up a beer for him and bought the kind of pizza he likes. Gave him extra cash for gas even though Billy didn’t need the money.

He wasn’t surprised though. Billy knows this act. The _I’m so sorry I won’t ever do it again_ act. Neil used to do the same thing with his mother. Bought Cheryl flowers and a new piece of jewelry to add to the collection. Kissed her more often, hugged her in the morning, told Cheryl her pancakes were the best ones _he’s ever had_. It always lasted for about three weeks, before the cycle repeated itself again.

When Neil had dropped the not so subtle hint about Beth, though. Billy swears his back had turned ice cold.

“Find a new girl, Billy. One that is more like you,” he had said, handing him another beer, “I would hate to think what a stranger would do to her if he saw you both together. Not everyone is so open minded. I’m just looking out for you, son.”

“Yes, sir. You’re right,” Billy had said, hand holding the bottle trembling.

He had felt like such a pussy.

Billy had crawled up like a bitch and took it. Hadn’t been able to protect himself from Neil. So, how in the fuck was he going to protect Beth from the piece of shit standing right in front of him? Because, _Neil_? Neil might lie about a lot of things. Promises, love, keeping people safe. But when Neil _threatened_ someone? He meant every single word.

Billy had learned that from all the punishments his father had thought he needed… Had thought his mother needed, too.

His mind had been racing a mile an hour. But he had kept it together. Nodded, took a sip like it meant nothing. “I’ll find someone else.”

Neil’s expression had been dripping with delight. “Good. That’s good, son.”

Billy had felt like he had to throw up.

 

“We can’t hang out anymore.”

But Beth hadn’t been focused on his words, instead, her eyes had slid down to his chest. Where the dark bruises had been visible through his unbuttoned shirt. She had reached out a hand, Billy had grabbed it. Made her lift her pretty head up at him.

“Did you hear me? We can’t hang out anymore. The fucking was nice but fun’s over.”

“Your father did that to you, didn’t he?”

Billy’s face had dropped for a second. Those brown doe eyes could always stare right through him, and it cut deep.

“It doesn’t matter,” he spit through his teeth. But Beth wasn’t leaving.

“Of course it fucking matters,” she spit right back, got closer. “You need to go to the police, Billy. The fucker can’t keep getting away with this shit.”

“Oh, honey,” he had said, playing bullshit. “He can get away with everything. Who’s gonna believe me anyway, uh? I’m just white trash who runs daddy’s money dry for beer and gasoline.”

“Stop it,” Beth had said, eyes watering. “You can stand up to him, Billy. I know you can. Please, don’t do this—“

“Do what? Break your itty bitty heart? I’m sorry, sweetie. But we were just fucking. You were a good lay, I’ll admit it. That’s why I tolerated you all these months. But my dad found out, oopsie daisy! Got to cut the booty call a little sooner. But make no mistake. _This_ was exactly that. _Sex_. Get over it, Beth. Go suck some black guy’s dick instead. I hear they’re bigger.”

A few tears had slid down her cheek. Otherwise, Beth’s expression had stayed surprisingly put together. Billy had realized then he may not be the first asshole to treat her this way, or the first white guy to crumple over parents’ disapproval and drop her like a hot potato.

 _I don’t want to do this. I just want to protect you_ , he had thought, knowing he couldn’t say it. Because _then_ Beth would’ve definitely stayed. _And_ Billy would’ve let her because he was just that fucking soft around her. _And then_ Neil would’ve found out – eventually, surely, like always – and would have done something that Billy could not have prevented. Something that would’ve destroyed her.

He couldn’t let that happen. So, he had played the asshole. It was better this way.

Still, the guilt must have gotten to him. Otherwise, why would he have released her hand? Let her soft fingers trail over the still healing scar on his lip. Didn’t push when she gave him a sweet kiss over that same wound.

Beth had stared at him after, with a smile that hadn’t quite reached her eyes. Said: “Take care of yourself, Billy Hargrove.” Walked away. Not looking back.

That night he got so black out drunk he swears he doesn’t remember shit. His ribs had hurt more though. Woke up with blood on his fists. A small cut was now above his right eyebrow.

Billy had simply shrugged it off, went to take a shower.

On Monday morning some of his pals had asked him about Beth. “Why didn’t you drive your sweetheart to class today, Hargrove?” laughing, thinking they had gotten into one of their fights.

“Oh, _her_ ,” he had said, smiling. “I dumped her. Got tired of being her little purse dog, you know? Need to find some new tail.”

His crew had stared at each other, dumbfounded. But they hadn’t challenged his reason. They’ve all learned not to question him since he broke Andrew’s front teeth in ninth grade, when he didn’t believe the origin of Billy’s bruises.

Later that day, a buddy had introduced him to a new girl. Blonde hair, brown eyes, with a mole similar to Beth’s. He had screwed her. Then had screwed her friend. And then he had screwed them both, together, on the same bed. It had been fun. Billy had even managed to turn off his brain when he realized Beth could’ve scratched harder than those two cows combined.

 

* * *

 

He spots Max and some kid arguing. Billy eyes him throughout, still keeps his gaze after Max walks off on her skateboard.

She doesn’t know. _Of course she doesn’t know_. Susan likes to pretend her marriage is perfect, and Neil likes to pretend he’s the perfect father figure for Max. Billy can feel his blood boiling already.

“That kid you were talking to. Who he is?”

“No one,” is Max’s response.

He tries to let it go. Thinks of something else. Even lights up a cigarette to drown out the drums. But Max keeps being difficult, and she _needs_ to know.

“Then why are you so upset?”

“I’m not,” Max grunts out.

“He causing you trouble?”

He can’t help it. Thinks back to the _Ian situation_.

Ian was Billy’s age, but that doesn’t really matter. If his life is proof of anything it's that boys can be awful pieces of shit at any age. And _Max_. Max is too trusting for her own good. Like Susan and Neil, she likes to pretend she’s something she isn’t. Acts all tough and rude, but that girl possesses a big heart, too big for her little chest.

It’s what scum like Ian use to their advantage. Exactly like Neil did to Cheryl, and now Susan.

But Ian is probably on a fluid diet these days. Too afraid to press charges for fear of being exposed as the _sick pervert_ that he is. Neil, on the other hand, is still walking about. Under the same roof as Max.

She needs to know. Even if that kid turns out to be fucking harmless. _She needs to know the rules._

“Why do you care?” she has the gull to ask. Again. Like it hasn’t been obvious the minute she and Susan stepped foot into Neil’s home.

“Because, Max, you’re a piece of shit, but we’re family now whether we like it or not. Meaning I’m stuck looking out for you.”

“What would I ever do without you - “

Billy doesn’t let her finish. Grabs her wrist in midair. Max isn’t taking any of this seriously, and that thought can cost her far more than she’s willing to give up.

“This is _serious_ shit, okay? I’m older than you. And something you _learn_ is that there are certain type of people in this world that you _stay away_ from. And that kid, Max?” Billy tightens his grip, pushes her towards him. She needs to learn. “ _That kid_ is one of them.” Max tries to escape but Billy holds on tighter. This shit needs to be ingrained in her little head. It’s the only way. “You stay away from him, you hear me? _Stay. Away._ ”

And then he pushes her off, starts the car, drives off.

It’s best Max takes the _hint_ and learns to keep kids like Lucas away from their house and out of Neil’s eyesight. It’s best Max remembers the last time she _didn’t_ heed Billy’s warning over what kind of people she could trust. It’s all for the best. Even after she whimpers in the car. Even after Billy hears her crying through her locked door.

It’s for the best. Because, if it came down to it, Billy would put himself between Neil and Max. Being the stupid bastard that he is. Would probably fight back this time. Twice as hard. And then…

Then he wouldn’t be there to watch out for Neil’s next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the Ian situation: Who's Ian??? Was he the guy that Billy put in the hospital??? What did he do to Max????? 
> 
> Don't worry, all answers will be revealed.. Soon-ish. Still not sure where I'll be putting that little backstory. Maybe next chapter, or the last one. We'll see!
> 
> Also, if there is something you think I can improve on, please feel free to share. I'm all ears!


	4. Disguise Dirt on Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy finds it strange when Neil keeps seeing the same broad for more than two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyoo, folks! Sorry it took so long to write this chapter. Hope you'll enjoy it all the same. (Also re-edited previous chapters too. Added a few things if you guys wanna go read it all over again haha)
> 
> It's Max and Billy centered though. Because I love me some sibling bonding. Also, Ian appears in this one. Heed the warnings, guys.
> 
> Beta'd by @Fluffinson

Billy finds it strange when Neil keeps seeing the same broad for more than two weeks.

Since Cheryl, his father hasn't shown much interest in long term relationships. Billy figures there was a part of him that truly loved his mother. It just wasn’t enough to make him less of an abusive asshole.

And he still can’t admit what it was. No matter how long has passed. _Probably denial_ , Billy thinks. _Maybe guilt. Maybe that’s why he got worse._

After the funeral, Neil had cried - once. Openly. In front of his son. Hugged him so tight Billy thought he couldn't breathe. He had hugged back, cried with him. But things like that don’t last around Billy Hargrove.

Just a broken kid who had lost his mother. Yet, like Billy suspected, Neil had refused to look at him the next morning.

He doesn't like thinking about any of this. It makes his father less of a monster. Human, even. In these situations his brain unwillingly conjures up different scenarios, the _could’ve-s_ , the _could be-s_. Makes him wish he could forgive Neil. Act like a better son.

Billy catches himself before he does any of that stupid shit.

Twists the necklace in his hands. Brings the metal unto his lips and thinks of his mother. Back at the time when Cheryl would still smile. When after a long boring church attendance, Billy had received his Holy Mary's pendant.

"She'll protect you," his mother had said, caressing his cheek "When I'm not around, she's the one who's gonna watch out over your messy little head."

Billy is not sure he believes in any of that crap. But his mother did. He hopes she’s already passed through whatever place she was meant to go. Forgiven herself for what she almost did. Found peace. Hopes she didn’t have to watch as Billy turned into this crooked version of her son.

 

Neil brings Susan to their home one night. Makes her dinner. Tells Billy to go out and have fun, even touches his arm in a caring manner. Billy still flinches.

Susan is nice. Asks Billy about school and his hobbies, and actually seems interested. She has a gentle voice. Kind eyes. Sweet smile. Billy likes her. Which is why he gets twitchy when his father keeps bringing her around.

“So, what’s the deal with this new chick?” Billy asks, one day. When Neil is in a good mood.

“What do you mean?” he asks, switching channels.

“I mean” he says, trying not to sound too interested. “You keep bringing her over. And it’s not… Is this serious?”

His father had smiled at him. Which only troubled Billy further. He hadn’t smiled like that since Cheryl.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I like her.”

Billy had nodded, fingers digging into the couch’s arm.

 

A few weeks after the Beth incident, Neil brought over Susan again. This time with a little redhead rugrat.

“Why don’t you drive her around, Billy? Buy her some lunch,” his father asked, not a question.

The fiery thing stared him down with such ferocity Billy thought he was some bully that had stolen her lunch money. He gave her the biggest grin he had. She stuck out her tongue. Billy liked Max.

He drove her to MacDonald’s and then to the nearest arcade.

“What’s the deal with you and this car? It’s like it’s your girlfriend or something,” Max said, one sunny afternoon. Stuffing her mouth with fries because Billy wouldn’t let her eat inside his car.

“Kid, when you make your own money and buy yourself a small pink four-wheel thing,” he said, flipping his cigarette unto the dirty street, “ _Then_ you can make fun of me and my car.”

Max eyed him critically.

“It’s a special bond. Man and his car.”

She snickered. “Sure. It’s not because you’re _lonely_ or anything.”

Billy cut her some slack, her mother was dating the biggest douche in the universe. Even if at the time she hadn’t realized it yet. However.

“I guess it’s just like you and your skateboard,” he said, stealing a fry from her hand, “What’s the matter, _Maxine_? Guys don’t like it when you beat them at video games?”

“Asshole!” she screeched, Billy laughed.

He felt serene. Even more so when he drove Max to the skate park, sun hitting both their faces in a soft light. He smoked another cigarette and watched her do her moves around some little dweebs. But she was better. Of course she was. Max didn’t seem like the type to go around with a skateboard just because it was cool. Nah. She actually used the damn thing. The scratches and worn wheels said it all.

Billy even ruffled her hair when she was done. Max threw another stinky glare, but it was softer now. The left side of her lips curled upwards when she got into the passenger seat.

He truly felt sorry when they went back home. As he watched Susan fall for his dad’s charm. Let Max accept Neil’s interest in her arcade score. They didn’t know. But they would.

Billy felt powerless through it all.

 

Susan moved in after almost a year. It was sudden. Neil’s love worked like that, it seemed. Fast and explosive. It wasn’t until after the wedding – five months after, lovely ceremony, Billy wore a tux, Max a peach dress, both sympathetic in the other one’s discomfort – that their honeymoon period hit a low bump.

She had let dinner burn a little. Neil waited for Max to go to bed before grabbing Susan by the arm, and _gently r_ eminding her that he works _hard_ to keep a roof over their heads and he just want some _goddamn_ dinner on the dinner table, is that so hard to ask?

Susan took the hint.

Until she was late from work. That’s when Billy caught her the next morning. He helped Susan now.

And he thought he was doing good. He really did. Max didn’t even seem to suspect a thing. Sassy remarks about his car were a welcome distraction from this returning shit show. Billy played along. Thought it was better to let Max think Neil was trying to be a good husband. A better man than her crack addict father.

But then Ian happened.

Billy had to stop pretending then.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a regular afternoon. Billy was waiting outside the arcade for Max. It was taking a while, though. He gave it a few more minutes before reluctantly getting out of the car, and strolled inside.

The place was packed with snotty kids. Air heavy with greasy food and too much deodorant. _Like that’s gonna hide the fact you little shits don’t shower,_ Billy thought and began searching for his step-sister.

It shouldn’t have been hard. Max was a small redhead with a skate board always by her side. It really shouldn’t have been hard to pick her out from all these twitchy little boys. Then _why_ was it hard?

He squinted at the back of the room. There were a couple of older guys hanging out on some dusty couch. A familiar skateboard was leaning at the left end of it. Billy marched up to them, a sickening feeling emerging from the bottom of his stomach.

The guys looked like complete nerds. Sweatpants with a throwaway t-shirt, hair so oily the artificial light made it shiny.

“Hey,” he calls. And Thing One and Thing Two look up from their _surely riveting_ conversation about spaceships or whatever. Billy doesn’t want to know. “You guys seen a snarky redhead? I’m her brother.”

Thing One has the gall to squint at him, while Thing Two looks downright terrified. _Jesus, will you chill. I haven’t even threatened you yet._

“You mean Max?” Thing One asks.

“Yeah, Max. I need to drive her home,” he says, “Her skateboard is right next to you guys, yet there’s no Maxine. Funny that.”

He smiles, showing teeth. Thing Two practically dissolves into the sofa. He grins wider.

“Hey man, we don’t want any trouble,” Thing One responds, eyeing Thing Two critically. “We actually like Max. She taught me how to get through a full run of Galaga. She’s awesome.”

“Gala what now?”

“Galaga, the game?” Thing One sighs. “Listen, never mind. What I mean is there’s nothing you have to fear from us. We look out for Max. There’s some creeps in here sometimes.”

If Billy’s eyes could squint further they’d closed. “Creeps? You mean to tell me two men with greasy hair surrounded by a bunch of kids is not creepy?”

Thing Two actually talks this time around. “You’re one to talk. You look like a freakin’ criminal.”

Billy stared him down. The nerd quickly turned away his gaze. _Pussy._

“Come on, Jeff. Seriously,” Thing One says, shaking his head, “Billy, is it? Max talks about you sometimes. She’s in the bathroom. She asked us to keep a look out for her skateboard since last time she brought it in some asshole tried to pee on it for fun.”

“What?”

“The bathroom is unisex. Kids are jerks. Do the math.”

Billy did the math alright. And he was going to have a _long_ conversation with Max about going into unisex bathrooms. Later. Right now the heebie jeebies were sky rocketing.

“Sure, okay. Where’s the bathroom again?”

“To your right, down the hall.”

Billy walked off.

The door to the bathroom was right where Thing One said it was. However, you could see from the bottom of the door that the light was turned off. Billy scratched his cheek. _Where the fuck has Max gone to?_

He was about to turn back when something caught his ear. Muffled voices. The sounds were coming from farther away, just behind a grey door with _staff only_ written in sharpie over it. Probably a storage for cleaning supplies. God knows brats hooked on sugar make the biggest messes. Also a good last minute place for a quickie.

He didn’t want to intrude in some geeky teenage sex fest. But, a familiar laugh made him stay. Billy’s hair stood on end as the giggles kept coming. He opened the door so far wide the screws almost bounced off.

There was lost Maxine. With a boy, of Billy’s age. Standing far too close.

“Billy, what the—“

He didn’t hesitate. Billy pushed the other boy away from Max, threw him against the cupboards. “What the fuck were you doing with a little kid in here, you fucking pervert?”

“Billy, stop!” Max screamed, trying to push him off the freak. “Jesus Christ, he was just showing me a game!”

“Yeah, man! Jesus, let go!” the other boy screamed. Billy eyed him carefully. He didn’t look like one of those slobs he met, in fact, he was quite handsome. Blue eyes. Dark hair slicked back. Slightly tanned skin. He looked like one of those surfer guys he had seen around the skate park. He wonders if that’s how Max met this fucker. “Seriously. I was just giving her a copy of Mario Brothers.”

Billy titled his head. “Mario Brothers?”

“The game? For the NES console?” the boy had the nerve to laugh at Billy’s puzzled expression. “God, Max. You weren’t kidding. Your brother really is a square about this.”

Billy loosened his grip, looking at Max. “He was just giving you a game?”

“Yeah,” Max says, shaking the video case in her hand. “Mom bought me the console last Christmas. I was trying to save some money for it, but Ian said he had a copy he already beat twice. He said he didn’t mind giving it to me.”

Billy nodded, staring at the so called Ian now. “Then why the hell were you two in the supply closet?”

Ian rolled his eyes. Billy’s anger grew.

“Because Carlos and Jeff are two annoying nags? Every time I come here they always corner me and force me to listen to their geeky talk about Star Ships and that stupid King of the Rings book or whatever. I just like video games, man. I don’t wallow in my room like some stupid nerd. Max is the first cool kid I’ve met that has taken an interest in this. My other friends don’t appreciate it as much as I do. And I know, I _know_ how it seems. But we were just talking, bro. There was nothing else going on.”

Billy lets Ian go. He glances at Max and sees she’s not shaking, isn’t tense. In fact, she looks downright annoyed. With her arms crossed over her chest, giving Billy her signature stinky eye. _Yet_. Something still smells fishy. Rotten-dolphin-corpse-washed-up-on-the-beach fishy.

He smiles at Ian, shaking his head. “Sorry, man. She’s my little sister. You know how it is.”

“No problem, bro. I get it.” He moves to get away. Billy puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Max. How about you go grab your skateboard and wait up by the car? I’ve got to take a leak.”

Max seems uneasy now. “Billy, seriously—“

“Do as you’re told, Max. You’ve already kept me waiting.”

She glances at Ian one last time, and walks off the room. Ian looks a tiny bit scared. Good.

“Bro, listen—“

“I’m not your fucking bro,” Billy says, calmly. “And Max can buy into your bullshit, but I don’t. I know a shithead when I see one. It’s dark in here, you’ve noticed that? Dark and quiet, and away from the crowd. You think I’m stupid, fucker? Talking to a little girl, in a closed off space, giving me some bullshit excuse about a video game? _Oh_ , I _know_ how this game is played. Except, I do it with big girls. Girls that _aren’t_ fucking twelve. She doesn’t even _look_ old, you little shit. There’s no fucking excuse for this bullshit. _So_ , since I’m in such a good mood, and I don’t want to cause a scene in Max’s favorite hangout space, you’re going to _listen_ very carefully to what I’m about to say.”

Billy’s hand closes on his shoulder, Ian flinches in pain. “You _don’t_ talk to Max. You _don’t_ think of Max. You _don’t_ even go remotely close to where Max is, _got it_? If Max talks to you, sees you, goes near you – you _run_ in the other direction. I don’t fucking care what you have to do. But Max is no longer your little friend. Pretend like she never even existed. And if I find out you laid a hand on her… Trust me, it’s all for the best I don’t find out. ‘Kay, _bro_?”

As he lets go, Billy gives him the too sharp smile. Ian flinches further back, hitting the shelves again. “I-I got it.”

He stares down Ian for a little while longer. Lets him feel how _close_ he was to meeting Billy’s fists. He doesn’t say anything else, just walks out.

As he crosses their way, Billy glances at Thing One and Thing Two. Says: “Don’t let Ian into this arcade _ever_ again.” Doesn’t add a threat because he thinks he doesn’t need to. Those two guys seem smart. They know what will happen if they don’t comply.

When he gets to the car, Max eyes him with a nervous tick. Her finger keeps tapping at the top of her skate board. “What did you say to Ian?”

Billy doesn’t respond. He opens up the car and waits for Max to get in and put her seat belt on. “You’re not going to see Ian again.”

“Are you serious?” Billy doesn’t have to look back to know Max is pissed. “He wasn’t doing anything! He was just giving me a fucking video game—“

“Max,” he clips, tone on the edge. “I’ve known a lot of Ian’s. They seem cool at first. Buy you candy or cigarettes or beer. They ask about you. Make you feel special. But it’s a _lie_ , Max. It’s all so they can get what _they_ want. You’re lucky it hadn’t gotten that far yet. Ian may seem like a reasonable guy. But if he started doing something you didn’t like, _no_ is not gonna cut it. You might not want to admit it, but you’re small. You’re a small little kid and he’s older. He could pin you down and _take_ whatever the hell he wants from you. The reality is, there are some strangers you don’t go near of. _Ian_ is one of them.”

“Billy,” Max begins, frowning up at him. “Did someone…”

“Oh, Max,” he says, chuckling. “ _Relax_. I had a knife ready if some old pervert tried that shit on me. But some kids… Some kids weren’t so lucky.”

He thinks back to Stacey Brown. The older girl who showed mercy on Billy and made people think he was the shit. The girl who taught him how to _actually_ be the shit.

Thinks back to that muddled day. When Stacey, after being approached by a well-dressed man on the street, broke down crying when Billy kept pushing about her sudden quietness. “Come on, doll. Where’s that smile I like so much?” he had asked. Not expecting the Niagara Falls that soon followed.

Stacey told him what happened. That seemingly innocent guy on the street? The one who had a ring on his finger and looked old enough to be her dad? He had raped Stacey when she was eleven.

 _Groomed_ , was Stacey's way of phrasing it. He bought her candy and pretty dresses. Gave her money for food when her parents were having a rough time.

“He had only asked for one thing… For that one thing. And I-… I gave it to him. But I didn’t like it. It hurt. God, I bled so much I thought I was going to die. I’m sorry, Billy. I’m such a mess.”

He had shushed her till she couldn’t cry anymore. Gave her a soft kiss when he walked her home.

That night he tracked down Mr. Nice Guy with a couple of his buddies. Guys who had seen the way their teachers or uncles had looked at their sisters, and proceeded to break their hands in retaliation. They brought lead pipes and bats. Billy’s pocket knife safe in his back pocket.

They weren’t stupid about it either. Waited for him to get out of the bar. Corned him in a dark alley. Billy didn’t let him go unconscious until he heard these little words, “You say anything about us and we’ll tell your nice wife what _really_ gets your rock offs. _Capiche,_ amigo?”

Not that it would matter. Billy’s not sure his dick still functioned after they were done with him.

Max brought him back from his musings. “Ian isn’t—“

“Max,” Billy warns, “This isn’t up for discussion. You’re _not_ going to see Ian again.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, sure, I’m just going to stop seeing—“

Billy punches the dashboard so hard it makes Max jump.

“ _Dammit, Max!_ I’m not joking around here!” he stares her down, “Ian is _dangerou_ s! You’re not. Going. To. See. Him. Again. And if you think of babbling out to Neil, _think again_. You think he would just let it go, huh? You think he would be reasonable? You, inside a fucking closet, with an older boy. Oh, _Maxine_. You have no idea.”

Max trembles slightly, griping into her skate board. “Billy—“

“Say you understand. Say you won’t do it again.” Billy repeats, hands closing over the steering wheel, tightening. “Say it.”

She looks down. It’s a few seconds before Max nods, “I understand.”

Billy lets out a heavy breath, unclenching the wheel. He starts the car, “Good.”

 

When they get back home Max pretends everything is normal.

“Hey, kiddo. Have fun at the arcade?” Neil asks, smiling from his armchair.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling back. “It was good. A friend lent me a game. I’m gonna go to my room and practice.”

“That’s good. Have fun!” Neil doesn’t ask how Billy’s day went because he doesn’t like pretending with him.

After dinner, he goes to Max’s room. Knocks first, which is a first time for the both of them.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at the floor.

“Hey,” Max deadpans. Billy closes the door.

“You know I said those things to protect you, right?”

“Sure.”

“You have to understand… Max, don’t you find it strange a guy my age wants to hang out with you?”

She gives him the stink eye, which maybe means she _kind of_ forgives him. “Why would it be strange? Don’t you have your own fan club at basketball games?”

He sighs, rubbing his face. “That’s different.”

“How is it different?” she insists.

“Max…”

“It’s because I’m a girl, isn’t it?”

Billy shakes his head, “Part of it, yeah.”

She laughs, “Of course. God forbid a girl hangs out with a boy and it isn’t sexual.”

“Come on, Max—“

“No, _you_ come on. Ian hasn’t touched me at all. He only wants to talk. None of his cool friends like video games. So, he comes to me. That’s all we do, Billy. We just talk and try beating each other's high scores. He has never laid a hand on me, _ever_. He hasn’t even hugged me because of paranoid weirdos like you and Carlos.”

Billy sits on her bed, watching her character jump over enemies on the small TV screen.

“Carlos. One of the greasy looking nerds at the arcade?”

“Yep. Thing Two is always by his side, too.”

Billy snickers, Max raises an eyebrow. He shrugs, “He has the same concerns as I do, then.”

Max rolls her eyes, getting back to her video game, “Carlos just doesn’t like seeing his geeky place being taken over by someone else. He’s just insecure.”

“Max,” he says, more gently this time. “I’m not saying I’m always right. Even if most of the time, let’s be honest, _I am_. But when two people tell you to be careful around someone, you should listen.”

“Please, just because I’m a girl—“

“It’s not just because you’re a girl,” he says, tired. “Even if you had a dick between your legs, I would have still reacted the same way I did when I caught you two. It’s not _normal_ , Max. Jesus, I’m the same age as him. You think I would be doing some shit like that? Alone, in a supply closet, with my arm wrapped around a kid’s waist.”

“He wasn’t—“

“But he was getting real close to you, wasn’t he? Probably the closest he has ever gotten. Right?” By the way she bits her lip, Billy has hit the jackpot. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t make friends, Max. But friends like Ian? You don’t need. Nor should want. Christ, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Why?” she asks, suddenly. “Why do you want to protect me so bad?”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes at her. “Because, Max, we’re family now. It doesn’t matter how much of an annoying brat you are. I’m stuck looking out for you.”

His tone betrays his words. Billy doesn’t sound harsh, nor upset. He’s gentle, actually. Hands going to his hair because he’s not sure what to do next. He glances up. Max’s frown has gone slack. A smile appears at Billy’s bewilderment.

“Yeah, I get it. Guess I’m stuck with dealing with your big brother instinct too, uh?”

“Guess you are.” He says back, a smile threatening to form. Billy stands up. But as he gets closer to the door he stops, sighing. He turns back to Max. “Tomorrow… Do you want to go get a milkshake after school?”

Max laughs, “I have friends besides Ian, you know.”

“I didn’t mean—“

“But sure. I’m down for a milkshake. I’m going to judge you _every time_ you dip a fry in it, though.”

“Fries in milkshakes are amazing. Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“Some people have an actual palate, Billy.”

He laughs as he walks out.

 _Sometimes_ , Billy guesses, _it’s fun to pretend we’re a normal family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, you thought the Ian situation was gonna get resolved in one chapter???? Me too. But then words kept spilling over. Don't worry, I'll finish it in the next chapter. 
> 
> But it's not gonna be pretty. Billy is Billy. And it's gonna suck for Max too. (Nothing too serious, don't worry. I promise.)


	5. "Hurry up, buddy, it's almost sundown already."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Respect. And responsibility. That’s what his father said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for taking so long with this. I got lazy, then life got crazy. Hopefully, I won't take so goddamn long to upload next time!!
> 
> Also, heed the warnings guys.

Respect. And responsibility. That’s what his father said.

“You’re in charge of Max now,” he had explained. Had stared him down till Billy let out a quiet: “Yes, sir.”

He remembers when he forgot to pick Max from a friend’s house. It wasn’t out of malice. He had simply forgotten. Got swept by his buddies’ meaningless conversation and nice cold beers.

Susan had to be called from work.

When Billy got home, his father had stared him down again. Neil let the reality sink in. Before slapping him, hard. Watched as his son folded more into himself. Eyes dreading what came next.

Neil watched. And watched. Until he got bored of Billy’s pathetic sight. His father sighed, and left.

Billy had ripped his bed sheets. Then went on back and punched the brick wall. The first one was for Neil, the next one was for him.

He _remembers_ that. What he’s _supposed_ to do.

Especially when he spots Max’s dad.

Watches him with clothes which needed a washing two days ago. Long fingernails going up and down with no restraint. Notices how Max’s eyes look disturbing on such a sunken face.

He puts himself between him and Max. Puts Max’s hand down when he asks for money. Pushes him back when he starts to get a bit too antsy. Stares him down with a look his father has helped perfect.

It’s always the same story, when they get back into the car.

“He’s not always like this,” she explains, “He’s just in a rough spot right now.”

“You know he’s not allowed to be near you without supervision.”

“He knows that! He just misses me, that’s all,” she says, fidgeting with her seat. “He used to drive me around. Like you do. He would stay at the skate park all day, just to watch me. He’s a good dad.”

Billy doesn’t mention how he always seem to bring money into the conversation when they’re together. Or how the skate park welcomes more sinister faces than Max would like to believe. He doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he drives to an ice cream shop. Let’s her eat in silence as they watch the sun go down.

Max doesn’t say thank you. She’s like him, too stubborn. But she does clutch on his jacket sleeve, forehead falling against his shoulder.

It’s not perfect. But it’s what Billy can give her.

He doesn’t like to think what would’ve happened if her father had showed up when he didn’t. How things could have gone so much worse. And all because Billy _forgot_ he could be just as much of a useless piece of shit.

It’s _not_ going to happen again.

 

* * *

 

There’s a party happening at Becca’s house. Or was it Becky? Doesn’t matter. All that matters is the junior’s big house is parent vacant for the weekend and a party is on this same Friday.  Neil and Susan are going out for their weekly date night. So that makes the timing even more perfect.

“Hey, dweeb!” Billy calls as he walks into her bedroom. He avoids the pillow going for his head. Practice does make perfect. “I’m going to a party this Friday.”

Max rolls her eyes, “Cool. Go bash beer cans on your head or whatever.”

“Haha,” Billy deadpans, jumping unto the bed. “Listen, I need to make a deal with you.”

Max lifts one smug eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Our parents are going out, on the same night. And because Neil’s cheap I’m stuck on babysitting duty.”

“My condolences,” she says. Her hand pats his arm. Twice, just to rub it in.

“Yes, a very dramatic case of teenage abuse. I know. But,” he starts, grinning, “what if I only stuck around to make sure you didn’t choke on dinner?”

Max frowns, “What if you get caught?”

“I’m not getting caught, Max. I’ve snuck around before. I’ll put pillows under my bed. You have to also pretend to go to sleep, though. It wouldn’t exactly put me on good terms if Susan found you up at midnight, high off your ass on sugar, with your face too close to the TV set. So, make an effort, and go to bed before they get home. I’ll come home around two a.m. and everyone is none the wiser.”

Her blue eyes go down. “Billy, I’m not sure.”

“Come on, Max! It’s not like I’m asking you to jump off a bridge.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she says, glancing at the door. “What if Neil catches you?”

Billy’s body tenses up. Max doesn’t know. She _shouldn’t_ know. She _can’t_ know.

Susan always keeps her mouth shut and Neil is careful not to do that shit in front of her. Billy hides his bruises with long jackets and blames it on crazy parties when she asks. Neil has _never_ laid a hand on Max. He has never _even_ screamed in front of her. Billy is careful, he has been careful—

“I mean, what if he grounds you? Takes your car away or your stupid records?”

“Oh,” he says, breathing again. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Billy, seriously.”

“I’m dead serious,” he smirks, “I’ve been mastering the art of sneaking in and out since I was a tiny little dweeb. Maybe in the future I can give you some pointers.”

Max gives him a look. Billy continues smirking. She sighs, giving up.

“Fine. But you have to make up to me.”

“Of course, Max,” he says, “A deal has to benefit the two parties. Otherwise, it doesn’t work. How does five bucks to the arcade sound?”

Max crosses her arms, considering. “Ten.”

“Okay—“

“And you can’t complain what song I pick on the way there.”

She smirks, knowing she has all the leverage. Billy frowns. So the student becomes the master.

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes, raising his hand. “It’s a deal.”

She takes it, they shake on it. “Deal.”

He’s on his way out – congratulating himself on a flawless transaction – when a thought strikes him. Billy turns to his step-sister, “Max, you have to promise me something.”

She tilts her head, “Okay. I promise my music choice won’t kill you—”

“You have to promise me you’ll stay in.”

Max flinches back, “What?”

“Promise me you won’t leave after I go. You’ll stay home. And you can’t let anyone in either.”

She sighs.

“Billy, I’ve had the stranger danger talk before.”

He shrugs, “I’m just making sure it sticks.”

Max’s lips go a little tight. “Is this about Ian again?”

“Yes,” Billy says, already exhausted. “This is about Ian again. I don’t want a repeat of what happened before.”

“Jesus, Billy. It’s been weeks.”

“Two weeks, actually.”

“I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” her tone is harsh now, maybe a little annoyed. “I haven’t seen him and I haven’t talked to him. So, can you please go? I need to work on my score.”

Max gets up from the bed, already turning on the TV and setting up the console.

“Not until you promise me.”

“Fine!” she shouts, staring at him. “I promise I won’t leave the house and I won’t let anyone in. Happy, _dipshit_?”

Billy stares. He stares, and keeps staring. Max slightly coils from his sight. He snaps up from it. “Yes,” he says, voice soft. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she grumbles, settling on the ground. Her back turned. “Have fun getting into an alcoholic coma.”

Billy walks out.

 

* * *

 

The music is so loud his ears have a hard time hearing the blonde talking to him. Good. Surprisingly, he’s not in the mood.

Oh, she’s pretty. His dick just isn’t up for it.

He chucks down his cup, washing down the girly mixture of vodka and cranberry juice. Billy pretends to gag.

“I need a smoke,” he says, and leaves.

He’ll give the junior this: Her parents must have good money to own a house this big. Lucky her. Sure beats Neil’s beaten down apartment.

Billy lights a cigarette. The smoke fills his lungs and flows out his nostrils. The night’s cold air is nice. Moon shines, and there are no clouds in the sky. If Billy was of the artsy type, he’d grab his ugly camera and take a picture. He’s not the artsy type.

An arm brushes his shoulder, Billy looks up. It’s Tony. Clean shaved, hair slicked back, Tony.

Billy called him pretty boy when they first met. He felt Tony’s punch for days. Probably the only motherfucker who can keep up with him.

They’ve only gotten closer since Tony helped him with Stacey’s situation.

_“I’ve been there, man. An uncle of mine got close to my sister. Real fucking close. His legs don’t work no more.”_

Billy trusts Tony.

“What’s wrong, Billy boy?” Tony asks. “The cheap beer too much for you?”

“Needed the fresh air.”

“Ah, saw Beth, did ya?”

Billy’s hand twitches. “No. But thanks for the info. Appreciate it.”

“Shit, man. I didn’t know. I thought—“

“It’s okay,” he says, and takes a long drag. “Is she with someone?”

Tony puts his hands in his pockets, “Yeah. A guy. I think he’s a junior.”

Billy exhales. “Good for her.”

“Want me to go break his face?”

He stumps down his cigarette. “No, Tony. Me and Beth are over. We’ve been _over_ for a year now. She can go fuck all of the basketball team for all I care.”

“Sure.”

Billy stares. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tony shrugs. “Just that I know you still think about her.”

“Fuck you,” he snarls. But Tony doesn’t seem one bit intimated.

“Now, who’s gone and shit on your shoes this morning?”

“ _No one_. You’re just fucking annoying.”

“Uh-huh. And you’re an idiot when it comes to chicks. What’s new?”

“Nothing! Nothing is new.”

Tony gives him the look. The eyebrow-raised, squinting-eyes, I-know-you’re-lying, look. Billy, like always, succumbs to it.

“Max met someone at the arcade.”

“Where Carlos works at?”

“Yeah,” Billy says, blinking. “How do you know that?”

“Mom forces me to drive my little bros there after church. Says it keeps them quiet throughout the sermon,” he says, crossing his arms. “How’s Carlos, by the way?”

“He’s… fine? I don’t know, Tony. I didn’t stay and chat with the nerd.”

“You should. He’s pretty cool.” Tony smiles. Which is terrifying. Because Billy has only seen Tony smile when someone pisses him off, or when he catches a girl’s attention.

Billy is quick at putting two and two together. He laughs.

Of course Tony is an equal opportunity player. He doesn’t blame the guy. Hell, _he_ has checked out a guy’s ass once or twice. Billy’s just never done anything about it. He’d probably never leave a hospital bed after his father was done with him.

“So, Max met someone at the arcade? What’s the problem? Worried you’ll have to fight off snotty kids?”

“See, that’s just the thing,” Billy says, voice low. “She didn’t meet a _kid_ at the arcade. She was with a guy, _our age_ , hiding in a fucking closet.”

Tony’s smile falls. “How close were they?”

“Too close.”

Tony nods. “You think he’s going to try again?”

“I think I scared him off. But Max… She worries me. She trusts the sick fuck.”

“Has she tried to meet him again?”

“Not that I know of. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Max could be lying through her teeth and I would be none the fucking wiser.”

“Fuck, man. No wonder you’re so tensed up.”

Tony’s hands move to his pockets again. He’s not the jittery type. He’s always calm, quiet Tony. The only tell are his hands. He hides them when there’s too much shit going on in his head.

“We could go find him,” he suggests, “Really bring it home not to mess with Max.”

“I…,” Billy sighs, “I don’t wanna cause any more trouble for Max.”

“How’s _protecting_ her causing her trouble?”

“What do you think it’s gonna happen once word comes out that her big tough step brother kicked somebody’s ass because Max was talking to them? Every smart kid would stop talking to her.”

“So it only leaves the dumb ones. I see your dilemma.”

Both let out a chuckle. Billy shrugs, a hand sliding over his hair.

Smoking isn’t doing much for him. And he’s having a hard time keeping his legs up. _Tired._ He realizes. That’s what he’s feeling. Uh.

“I think I’m gonna go home early.”

Tony steps up, “You sure? I can go grab us another drink.”

“Nah, that’s okay man. I just need to get home.”

“Okay,” Tony says, taking out his own cigarette. “But hey, I meant it. If you need to teach that freak a lesson, I don’t mind being the extra muscle.”

Billy’s lips curl up to one side. “I know. I’ll see you around.”

“See ya.”

Billy leaves. Not even taking a second glance at the pretty blonde from before. He counts himself lucky for not spotting Beth.

 

* * *

 

He arrives home in twenty minutes. He can’t hear any loud noises, so for a moment Billy is grateful Max didn’t use this parent-free night to blast out the TV speakers. God knows what the neighbors would say. (And what they’d tell Neil.)

His gratitude, however, is quickly shattered when he finds the apartment in complete darkness. Billy feels something cold slide across his back.

“Max?” He calls. He gets no answer. “Max, I’m not fucking around!”

Billy stomps into her room, yanks the door open. It’s pitch dark. But the moonlight sheds through Max’s curtains. There’s no one sleeping on the bed.

“Fuck,” he says, “Fuck. Motherfucker! Shit! _FUCK_!”

He slams the door shut. Gets his keys. And drives off to find the lying brat.

 

The arcade is the first place he goes. It’s closed. Of course it’s closed. Just for safe measure Billy goes around the back. There’s no one there and the door is shut tight. There are no dimmed lights through the high bathroom window. She’s not there.

He goes to the skate park next. There’s a group of stoned teenagers nearby. He can smell the pot from where his car is parked. But no Max.

His fingers tighten over the steering wheel. Billy ponders getting out of his car and punching one of those laughing assholes. But he resists. The only closed off place here is the dirty outside bathroom. And even then the door is partly open. Still no Max.

Billy punches the dashing board. His voice grows frantic. “Motherfucker! _Shit, shit, shit_.” His fingers find a new place to grab at the back of his hair. Billy pulls. Makes it hurt. It’s the only thing that’s keeping him from losing his complete shit.

_Where has she gone to? Where has that sick fuck taken her?_

Because, he knows. It’s Ian.

He doubts Max would be missing curfew for miss perfect Julia or noisy irritating William. Nah, it’s _Ian_. Handsome, older, Ian. Who speaks to Max like she’s not a little kid and makes her feel like her opinions matter. Charming, manipulative, Ian.

His forehead hits the steering wheel.

_Think, think, think you stupid fuck. Where are they, uh? Where have they possibly gone to? Fuck. You stupid, stupid fuck. You should’ve seen this coming. Shit. This is all your fault. It’s. Al. Your. Fault. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Max knew how to play you. Max knew—_

Billy takes a deep breath. He remembers something. A few days ago, Max had been awfully chatty. She kept asking _these_ questions.

_Where do you go with your friends? The asshole team get drunk at the beach?_

“No. I don’t go to the beach anymore. Sand always get in my car afterwards,” he had said. Not entirely a lie.

And Max had nodded.

_Bingo._

Billy speeds away, leaving skid marks behind him.

 

He knows, alright. The beach is a broad statement. It’s huge. But where does a pedophile bring a kid so they can be alone? Away from horny couples and curious bystanders?

To the most deserted area.

Away from the street filled people. Away from parked cars on the hills. Away from laughter surrounded by illegal bonfires.

Where the water almost traps you between the rocks.

Billy gets out of the car. He can feel the sand slithering inside his socks and pushing him down. He walks and walks until he sees the rock’s edges. He can hear a faint sob.

Billy’s shoes go into the water and the crying becomes more clear. He can hear laughing. “Come on. I promise you’ll like it. _Just_ , give it time.”

He sees them. Behind the rocks. Max is sprawled over wet sand, red hair tangled in it. Ian is crouching over her, holding her hands up. He’s smiling. Max’s eyes are red and wet.

“Billy?” His sister whimpers.

Ian turns his head. _Surprise, bitch._ Billy grabs him by the back of his shirt and shoves him to the rocks.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you were doing?”

Recognition hits Ian’s face like a brick. Eyes go wide. He clutches to the rocks against his back.

“L-Listen, man. It’s not what you think—“

“ _Really?_ So you weren’t just about to rape my sister?”

“No! No, I was just—“

“I said no,” Max whispers.

Billy glances at her, she’s sitting up now. Her face quivers at the sight of Ian. Max looks at Billy. “I didn’t-… I said no and he kept t-touching me. I didn’t want _this_. I didn’t, Billy. Please.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Billy’s fist hits Ian’s jaw, making a loud crack. Ian whimpers. **_Good._** Billy grabs his sore jaw, tightens. “I warned you, didn´t I?” He snarls. “I warned what would happen if you touched her.”

“P-Please—“

He punches him in the stomach, kicks his knee. Throws another punch to his jaw. Ian has started to bleed from his mouth. Not good enough. His fits keep finding the freak’s face. His eye. His nose. His mouth. Billy grabs him by the hair and drags it across the sharp rocks. Punches him again so his head hits them from behind.

Ian keeps pleading for mercy. _The fucker can still talk._

His knuckles start to crack. There’s blood on them, and some of it he knows it’s his. Billy keeps hitting away. Ian’s face starts to blur. All Billy can see is red.

He thinks of what could’ve happened if he hadn’t come sooner. What this bastard would’ve done. _To Max._ Thinks maybe his sister isn’t his first prey. The punches keep coming.

“This what you deserve, _you fuck_. You _deserve_ everything I’m giving you. _You stupid fucking bastard._ You **_pathetic_** little shit!”

Billy screams. Ian doesn’t utter a sound. The punches keep coming.

(By just a spilt second, Billy thinks he sees his dad. Neil, with a bloodied up face. Neil, struggling to get air into his lungs. Neil, weak and _pathetic_ and dying. Billy doesn’t stop.)

A hand grabs his hair and pulls. Billy turns, it’s Max.

Max, with dried tears over her freckled cheeks. Deep frown set above her green eyes. Lips quivering. Billy drops Ian.

“I-I told you to stop,” she says, “I screamed for you to stop, Billy.”

His hands are drenched in blood. Ian isn’t moving. How long did he keep hitting him? For a second, he’s scared. Scared because he doesn’t remember. He didn’t even hear Max begging him to stop.

With a deep breath, the fear is gone. The sick fuck deserved it.

“Are you okay?” He asks her, hands hovering her arms. Not sure if he should touch her or not. “Please, Max. Tell me… Tell me you’re okay.”

Max looks at Billy, expression indecipherable.

“I’m okay. He was about to… You stopped him before he did anything serious,” she says, Billy breathes, “Are you… okay?”

He stares pass Max, up the rocks and finding the sinning moon. “Sure.”

 

The ride home is tense, to say the least.

Billy is still covered in blood. Max doesn’t utter a peep. And there’s also the fact Ian is still unconscious, back at the beach. Where the tide is rising.

Max had caught his hand and sunk her sneakers in the sand.

_“We need to call an ambulance! Billy, I-I don’t think he’s moving._ Billy _!”_

But Billy hadn’t said anything. He didn’t even acknowledge Ian. He had merely dragged Max by the arm and shoved her into his car. His foot stepped on the accelerator and they drove far, far away.

It’s strange. Billy’s body is moving. Billy knows which way to turn and which way to stop. Billy breathes slowly, _in_ and _out_. But Billy’s head hasn’t quite sat back down.

Everything feels too light.

For a moment, he thinks to ask Max to pinch his skin. Make sure this isn’t some lucid nightmare. He then realizes that sounds completely crazy and thinks better of it.

This wasn’t the same with Stacey Brown. The fucker had been hit a good couple of times. Right between his merry legs. Just as last time, Billy felt righteous in his violence. But last time he had friends with him. Last time it didn’t last much more than five minutes. Billy counted.

Right now, he doesn’t know how much time has passed. Have their parents arrived home? Have they called the police? Why don’t his knuckles hurt as much? Why does everything feel like it’s floating high above him and he needs to force his feet to stay down?

Billy stops the car. He can see his bedroom window through the driveway. The lights are out. _Uh, they haven’t arrived yet._ His hands go over his thighs. He can feel a slight pressure. That’s good, right?

He opens the door, climbs up the stairs, lets Max go inside first.

Billy’s eyes catch her go to the kitchen. He goes to the bathroom.

Cold water hits his hands, a pink color starts forming at the bottom of the sink. Once they’re clean he splashes a handful to his face. Billy feels bile coming up his throat. He swallows it down. Splashes his face some more.

His hands are trembling. _What the fuck?_ The fear is coming back.

He left an unconscious man on the beach. That unconscious man may stop breathing by sunrise. Billy may have just _killed_ a man. His whole body is shaking now.

Sounds escape from the kitchen.

“Max?” Billy lets out. “Max, what are you doing?”

Max doesn’t respond to him. But she keeps talking. Billy leaves the dirty sink and goes to the kitchen.

“Max, did you hear me?”

Billy catches Max clinging the phone to her ear.

“Please, he’s still on the beach. I don’t even know if he was still breathing-…”

Max stares at Billy, stops. A voice can be heard from the other line.

_“Miss? Are you okay? Who hurt the man—“_

Billy takes the phone and slams it in its place.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“You almost killed him, Billy,” Max says, voice wavering. “I _needed_ to call someone.”

His hands find Max’s shoulders. They tighten.

“I almost killed him because _you broke your promise_ ,” he snarls. Her eyes widen. “I _told_ you to stay away from him. I _told_ you to stay in. _But no_. Maxine knows better, doesn’t she. Maxine ran off and if big brother Billy hadn’t arrived things would have been very, _very_ bad.”

“I-I didn’t know he would—“

“I WARNED YOU, MAX. DIDN’T I FUCKING WARN YOU?”

Max tries to escape his grip but he won’t let her walk away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I didn’t think… I’m sorry. But you—“

“ _I_ what, Max? What did I do? Save your ass? I sure fucking did.”

“You almost fucking _killed_ him,” Max says, eyes sharp. “You kept hitting him and hitting him! I told you to stop it, I told you it was enough. But it was like I wasn’t even there. You just… kept hitting him.”

Something in Max’s voice softens Billy’s hold. He glances at her eyes, they’re watering again.

“Max—“

“You weren’t saving me. You were _enjoying_ it. You were hurting him because you liked it.”

Billy lets her go. Those words hit him like hot cooking oil.

“No, Max. I was saving you.”

Max stares at him, unconvinced. Billy recoils a little further.

“No, you weren’t,” she says, tired. “You were using me as an excuse to hurt someone. You don’t care about me.”

Billy opens his mouth. To defend himself. Prove her wrong. He takes a second too long. Max looks resigned, exhausted. A kid shouldn’t ever look like that.

“Max…”

The front door opens. Billy can hear Susan laughing at something Neil said. They both walk into the kitchen, he sees Neil’s frown.

“Shouldn’t you both be in bed?”

Billy looks at Max, pleading. _Max, please. Please believe in me. Please—_

“Well, what’s going on?” Neil asks again. Billy knows he’s getting restless. Susan peaks out from behind him.

“Max, what happened?” She asks, voice soft and faint.

Max looks at her mom, then Neil, and finally Billy. He knows she’s going to tell before she does. Her eyes look too cracked for any more lies.

 

Neil decides to take Billy for a drive afterwards.

“To talk things out, man to man,” he explains to the girls.

What it really means is Billy gets the shit kicked out of him in an abandoned parking lot. It’s not as bad when the Beth thing happened. But it’s just as shitty.

Neil didn’t go as far because they had company now. They had to get back to the house and play nice. Like his father hadn’t just bruised his ribs.

“You stupid, _stupid_ boy. Why the hell are you so stupid? Why did you think that was a good idea, uh? When I said you had to look out for Max, I didn’t mean _you beat a man to death_. You stupid fucking _bastard_. How do you think people are going to look at me? Uh? Ever thought of that? You fucking idiot.”

Billy rode this one out. He had learned it’s better like this then to open his mouth and escalate things.

 

The police come a few days after. It’s a shit storm. They don’t even ask about the new bruises because they think Ian fought back. _Nah, too much of a pussy_ , he wants to say. But once again. Mouth shut.

He explains the Maxine situation. The police are much _nicer_ then.

The parents drop the charges. It must be tough. Being the parent of a pedophile. They were quick about it, too. Billy wonders if he was right. That Max wasn’t his first one.

He doesn’t sleep much the following nights.

 

* * *

 

He’s still angry. So goddamn angry.

Billy knows this rage was always there. But he knew how to control it. Kept it in. Let it out only when a new guy needed to be put in his place. This time, however… It’s _too_ much. Billy sometimes feels like he can’t breathe. It chokes him from the inside out.

He shattered Max’s _Mario Bros._ disc back in Cali. Left in the box so she could find it. It was cruel, he knows. The next day the box was in the trash. Max asked him what cereal he wanted for breakfast. Billy said he was going straight for the coffee.

They have good days.

And bad days. The Sinclair situation was a bad day. The day he caught her lying again was also a bad day. Billy broke her skateboard in half, right in front of her.

Max didn’t flinch. Not a bit. She merely stared him down and waited for him to finish. Unblinking. Undaunted. She then picked it up and brought the two pieces to her room. He could hear her playing with the duct tape.

Billy did _that_ to Max. Or maybe it was Ian. Perhaps it was the both of them, who took a carefree kid and made her grow up way too fast. He knows that’s what happened. Neil taught him that.   

His hands grip the weights above him. Billy wonders how it’d feel if he let them fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidenote: I'm thinking of writing an one shot with Tony & Carlos just for the hell of it. Leave a comment bellow if that's something you might read !! :)


	6. It's Gonna Be a Pretty Nice Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When in the fuck did Hawkins turn upside down?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for not updating sooner. This isn't an excuse but things haven't been going too well.. Personal and health issues abound. Nothing life threatning, thank God, but it has pushed my life plans far, far back. It is what it is. And I had planned to write more on this chapter but my brain just wouldn't budge. 
> 
> I wanted to give you guys something before I take, again, too long to write the next chapter. Once again, so sorry!

There’s an itch going around Billy’s head for a while now.

For the live of him, he can’t figure out why Steph fucking Harrington hasn’t stopped stepping over his thoughts and taking over his sex fantasies. Third time he’s masturbated today, and – without fail – just as he’s about to cum, the slutty models from his dirty magazines have been replaced by a soft face with moles Billy has wanted to kiss and lick and bite and make her sweet pink mouth whimper from too much—

Scratch that -- fourth time today.

He moans into his pillow. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

_Lots of things_ , his mind supplies.

The afterglow doesn’t last long. Steph’s startled face comes crushing down on his perverted male fantasies. He feels a heavy weight down his stomach whenever that happens. Not unlike how he feels about Max.

It makes him feel like a piece of shit. Makes him wish he could take everything back.

_Guilt_ , his mind supplies again.

Billy moans deeper into his pillow.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you still have Steph’s house number?”

Carol squints her eyes at him. Tommy is too busy with building a pea pyramid to pay much attention.

“And why do you want her number again?”

He knows how to play this. He chuckles, “Come on, Carol. You’re the one who’s been telling me how _open_ Steph is to friendly strangers. Maybe I want a go at it too.”

Carol keeps squinting, they’re almost at the edge of a frown. “No, you don’t.”

Billy laughs, “Don’t be jealous, Carol. If you weren’t dating Tommy, I’d totally take you for a spin.”

Tommy’s pea pyramid falls apart, “What did you just say?”

“Relax, bro. That was only if you guys weren’t dating. But you are. So don’t get so worked up. There are plenty of bitches in the sea.”

“Don’t call Carol a bitch!”

Billy rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t calling Carol a bitch. At least not to her face—“

“You don’t want to fuck Steph,” Carol interrupts. “No, seriously. If that was your plan you’d already have done it by now. When she and Nathan broke up. That was a great opportunity for you to move in and sweet talk her into fucking in the back of your Camaro. But you _didn’t_ do that. I saw you two fight a week ago. That little move you did? Not a Casanova play. Hell, if your late behavior is anything to go by, I’d say you actually have _feelings_ on dear old Stephanie. A little _crush_. This isn’t just about fucking.”

Billy and Tommy look at Carol like she’s grown an extra head. A very perceptive, bold head.

“That’s not—“

“You think Tommy didn’t do the same _pull-my-pigtails-and-then-act-guilty_ on me? _Please_. You aren’t as smooth as you think you are, Hargrove. You probably won’t fool Steph either. But she has such a self-destructive streak, she’d probably let you act like the macho bad boy you think you are.”

Billy is confused. He glances at Tommy, he shrugs.

“Listen,” Carol continues, “You want Steph’s phone number? Fine. But tell me _precisely_ what are you going to do with it. Otherwise, you’re not having it.”

“Oh, so you suddenly care about Steph’s well-being now?”

Carol frowns, crosses her arms. “This isn’t-… I just don’t like liars.”

Quite hypocritical. Since Billy knows Carol is lying too. The Joan obsession makes a lot of more sense now. Jealousy. Carol wanted to keep her best friend so bad, she dug her nails a little too deep. And paid the price for it. And what do people do after shit blows up in their face? Blame the other party. Billy knows _all_ about it.

But fine, he’ll play her game.

“Okay,” Billy says, “Steph’s been having problems with Chem. I’m more than alright in that department. I thought… I could help her out. Or something.”

Carol raises an eyebrow, “Or something?”

Billy looks down at his plate. When did Carol’s stare get so intense?

“Is it that bad I really want to kiss her too?”

Carol giggles. Billy looks up, frowning. “You’re like a cute pit bull. It’s adorable.”

Tommy chuckles. No doubt he’s enjoying having Billy’s _lovesick puppy_ being thrown back at him. Billy is about to respond, when Carol rips out a piece of paper from her notebook, writes something down. She throws it at Billy.

“Here. That’s her house number. Her parents are never home so I doubt they’ve changed it since last year or so.”

Billy tucks it in his front pocket. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Carol smiles, “ _lover boy_.”

Tommy laughs. Billy kicks him under the table. Hard.

 

* * *

 

 

He waits till Max is out of ear sight. Counts to ten before his fingers are able to find the number dial. The phone rings. Once. Twice.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end asks.

It sounds light and drowsy. Billy wonders if princess has a thing for taking afternoon naps. He smiles.

“Hey,” he says, a second later. “It’s Billy.”

“Oh,” Steph responds, voice fully alert now. “What do you want?”

“Are you always this hostile in phone calls?”

“Only with annoying assholes. But I guess you get that a lot, don’t you?”

Billy sighs. “I’m not calling to annoy you. I swear.”

“Right, okay,” she says, quick. “How did you get this number anyway?”

“I have my ways.”

“Carol gave it to you, didn’t she?”

Billy winces. Damn this female intuition turning up lately. “...Maybe.”

“Hargrove, is there anything in particular you want to say to me? Because I would just love to stand around and listen to you stumble about which is the best way to get in my pants – but I got better shit to do. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to hang up so you can dial up another girl on your list and—“

“I was wondering if I could tutor you?”

Billy’s forehead hits the wall. _Oh, God. When did you lose your game?_

The other line keeps quiet for a few, long seconds. Until: “What?”

“I remember your Chem book. You said you were having problems? I could, you know, teach you. Or something.”

“Or something.”

“Yeah.”

Billy bangs his forehead one more time.

“You’re really—… You want to tutor me?”

“Well, I have the grades to prove it. And I need the extra cash. So.”

“So you decided to dial up the dumb rich girl to get some easy cash.”

“Ye—No! No, I was just, you know, thinking you could use some extra help and—“

Laughter flows through his ear. Weird. It feels warm and sweet even from a shitty phone line.

“Relax,” she says. “I’m just messin’ with you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Billy is confused.

“So… you want me to tutor you?”

“Well, Hargrove, it’s not like I have any more options, now do I? And I need to graduate this year. I’ll take any help that I can get.”

Billy smiles, despite the back handed compliment. “So I’ll see you tomorrow? I can drive up to your house after school.”

“You know what,” Steph says, voice low. “Why don’t you come pick me up in the morning, and then drive me back? It’s an awful waste of fuel. To drive two cars. You know. Save the planet and all that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy eagerly responds, “Save the planet and all that shit.”

Steph chuckles. Billy’s smile widens. “See you tomorrow, Billy.”

“See ya, princess,” he says, voice too fond by the end.

He hangs up before any more stupid shit can came out of his mouth. Though, Steph’s last chuckle keeps replaying itself in his head. All throughout the afternoon, dinner, and, of course, late night masturbatory sessions.

He’s so screwed.

 

* * *

 

 

“Can you go sit in the back?”

“Why?” Max frowns. “I always sit in the front.”

“I know,” Billy says, “But today I’m picking up an extra passenger.”

“ _Oooooh_ ,” Max lets out, long and all knowing. “I thought Hawkins’ cows sat at the back?”

“Shut up,” Billy growls. “And none of that smart mouthing shit when she’s in, okay?”

Max smiles. Billy is unsettled. “ _No problemo, hermano._ ”

Billy is still unsettled.

 

* * *

 

 

He arrives at Steph's house in ten minutes. The wealthy suburban neighborhood is just at the edge of town. And this is a small town, not many cars around, so Billy speeds his way through the first couple of blocks. His eyes catch Max's smug face through the rearview mirror. He's actually kind of terrified.

Billy tries to pretend the princess's big house isn't intimidating in itself. Pushes down his _spoiled brat_ thoughts and thinks instead of the easy laugh he heard through the phone line yesterday.

He honks, two times.

A few minutes pass before the front door opens. There _she_ is. Steph Harrington, with her hair caught in a light pink scrunchy. Wearing the cutest fucking sweater he's ever seen. It's also pink, and it looks big on her slender figure. It has a stitched white heart on the front.

“Sorry,” Steph says, as she enters the car. “Woke up late and forgot to do the laundry. I had to dig through my elementary school drawer.”

“No, it's okay,” Billy says, “It looks good on you.”

She chuckles, “You don't need to lie to get in my good graces, Hargrove.”

“I'm not lying--”

Max coughs from the backseat. Billy sends her a death glare.

“I'm Max,” she says, extending a hand. “Billy's one and only step-sister.”

“Oh, hi!” Steph pipes up. “Sorry, didn't see you there. I'm Steph.”

They shake hands, Max smiles.

“Steph Harrington, right?”

“Yep.”

“Billy talks a _lot_ about you.”

Steph glances at him, surprised. “He does?”

“Oh, yeah,” Max continues on. “We may sleep in separate bedrooms but the walls are _pretty_ thin.”

Steph's cheeks color a deep pink, laughs as she turns her face down her lap. Billy's face is also flushed, but it's of the desire to strangle Max more than anything.

“And that's my sweet adoring sister for you.”

“Aww, Billy!” Max sings. “You didn't even use _step_ at the beginning or anything.”

Billy takes off, with a scowl set on his face. It does soften, though, as he catches Steph smiling out the window.

 

* * *

 

 

Max waves off a, “See ya later, lover birds!”, as she walks off. Because she’s that much of a little shit.

Steph chuckles, which threatens to dig up Billy’s smile.

“Your sister’s cute.”

“Cute?” Billy asks, confused. He can’t think of a single thing that would make Max… _cute_.

“Yeah,” she says, tilting her head. “It’s cute how much she tries to be like you.”

A cold, sharp shiver runs downs Billy’s back and leaves his mouth dry. _Be like me?_ , he thinks, and wants to vomit.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” he says, already walking off.

“Okay,” Steph says, voice going a little high, as if it’s question. “See you later.”

He was planning on having lunch with her, but the comment keeps going over his head. Like a hammer hitting a stuck nail. Billy decides to grab a soggy sandwich from the vending machine and hide by his Camaro.

Later, he spots Steph laughing at something Carol sends her way. But it’s not mocking. Or even patronizing. It sounds carefree, almost warm. Carol gives Steph the side smile reserved only for Tommy. And the guy actually waves off without looking at her ass.

Billy takes longer in the showers than usual.

When in the fuck did Hawkins turn upside down?

 

* * *

 

 

Things become even awkward when Billy drives Max home. The tiny rugrat smiles cheekily at the rear view window. Steph keeps glancing at him, eyes squinting as if it’d make it easier to unwrap Billy’s random moods. And Billy.. Well, Billy is staring at the road. Turning up the music to drown the thoughts in his head.

“Have fun you two,” Max shouts as she exits the car. “Be sure you don’t stay up all night _studying_!”

“Don’t leave the house,” Billy screams back. “Or I’ll come looking for you!”

Max flips him off. Billy speeds away.

It’s not until he parks by her house, that Steph finally speaks.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“What?”

“It’s just… You were all chirpy this morning and now you’re acting like I stuck a stick up your ass. If you’re gonna act like this all night, then I’m better off by my own.”

Billy exhales.

“Great. Now you’re moody!”

“I’m not!” Steph hits him with a stare. Billy flatters, a bit. “I’m just… Something you said threw me off, that’s all.”

She frowns, “I knew it. What stupid thing came from my mouth this time?”

“No, Steph. It wasn’t like that. I was just shocked, that’s all.”

Billy turns at the sound of giggling. _Actual giggling_. Steph Harrington is _giggling_ in front of him.

“Sorry, sorry!” She says, trying to hold in laughter. “Your puppy eyes are just so adorable when you’re not being a jerk.”

_Seriously?_ He thinks, and then. “I have puppy eyes?”

“Hell yeah you do. Those baby blues make you the prettiest puppy around.”

Billy looks away, trying to hide the embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

“I do not…”

“It’s not an insult, Billy! Everyone is a sucker for puppy eyes. Even me.” Billy can hear her playing with her house keys. “Plus, I think that’s the first time you called me by my first name.”

He glances at her then, gets hit by the sweetest smile he’s seen splattered on Steph Harrington’s face.

“It’s cute,” she says. Billy is stunned. “Come on, you still have to tutor me.”

As she reaches the front door, he gathers up the courage to get out of the car.


	7. (But pretty isn't everything, right?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max takes one look at him to know he messed up.
> 
> “Guess it was too good to be true, uh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soo, so, sooo sorry it took so long to update! But better now than never, right? (Please don't hate me.)
> 
> Also, I know nothing of American Chemistry books but I tried. This is also my first official smutty thing on here so sorry if it kind of sucks.

When Billy reaches her room, he’s not sure why he’s surprised. It’s the classic rich girly-girl teenage set-up – the most over the top he has ever seen.

There’s a _lot_ pink. Like, everywhere. Pink bed, pink curtains, pink carpet, there’s even a pink teddy bear on one of the top shelves. Below it a poster of _Sixteen Candles_ hangs up, alongside a large signed photo of Michael Schoeffling. Billy chuckles to himself. He’s heard of girls going crazy over this dude, figures princess would fall for his boyish charm, too.

“Something funny, Hargrove?”

Billy turns, presented with the image of Steph Harington on her big fluffy covers, several pillows stacked behind her. She looks comfy. So much so she’s let her hair down and her scruffy is now nicely tucked around her left wrist. The nickname _princess_ never suited her better.

 _I bet I could fuck you till you feel asleep, warm and content, in that big, soft bed of yours,_ he thinks.

He has a brain, though, not to say it out loud. Instead, he drifts back to the poster.

“Just never thought you’d fall for the classic American guy. It’s cute.”

Steph smiles, “Figured I’d have _The Outsiders_ up in my wall considering the company I’m keeping?”

Billy chuckles, again. “Sure, princess. I could even borrow you my copy if you’re that taken by the bad boys.”

Now, Steph is confused. “It was a book?”

“´Course it was. Go to a library someday, sweetie. You might find all your favorite classics were books _first_ before they went on the big screen.”

Steph looks taken aback, flinching a little at Billy’s comment. He blinks. Takes him a second to realize just how mean the shit he just said was.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Steph.”

She glances at some spot in that flashy pink wall. She’s silent, and Billy starts to become agitated. He’s fucked up. Of course he’s fucked up. He’s about to say sorry when:

“I’m just surprised you even know how to read.”

Billy blinks, then bursts out laughing.

“Surprised, princess? White trash isn’t like it used to be. We can read what’s on the pages now.”

He jumps unto the bed. Hands searching the inside of his jacket, fetching out a pack of flashcards. “Oh, and write. We can do that too.”

Steph come closer, her hand going over his shoulder.

“You’re not white trash, Billy. I was just messin’ with you.”

Billy shrugs, smiling. “I know, princess. Don’t worry your pretty head about hurting my feelings. What you should be worrying about, though, is this right here.”

Steph eyes the flashcards, chuckles. “You really think flashcards are going to save me from failing?”

“Hey, it’s worked for me!”

“That’s different. You’re a genius in disguise. I’m dumb as they come.”

“Now who needs a pep talk?”

Steph rolls her eyes. “If Nate didn’t manage it—“

“Listen here, doll. I’m not Nate. I’m Billy fucking Hargrove. And I promise you, we’ll catch you up on all this nerdy shit just in time for prom.”

“With flashcards?”

“A student’s best friend. If you know how to write them correctly.”

“Well, thank God I have yours, uh?”

“Atta girl!” Billy shouts, and Steph manages to crack a smile. “Now. Let’s start with – organic compounds.”

Steph crosses her legs, still smiling. “We’re really doing this then?”

“´Course we are. Now, organic—“

“And here I thought this was all a play to get me in bed.”

Billy closes his mouth, swallowing a bit of dry air. He tries to play dumb.

“You said you wanted a tutor.”

“I did,” she says, teasing. “But I’m also not naïve to boys’ many attempts at flirting. I’ve seen it all, Hargrove. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Billy sighs, “Have girls always been this perspective, or does Hawkins just have that sweet stuff flowing through its pipes?”

“To tell you the truth?” Steph whispers, as if they’re on a stage. “A bit of both.”

He smirks.

“Next thing you’re telling me is that there are actual monsters roaming around Hawkins’ woods.”

That was not the right thing to say, apparently. Steph’s smile falls away, and her hands go around herself as if she’s suddenly very cold.

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be funny,” she says, with no humor behind it.

One of Billy’s hands come closer to her leg, not quite touching, afraid he might spook her.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Steph shakes her head. “No. It’s just… Something weird happened last year, that’s all. And I still haven’t gotten over it.”

Billy frowns. “What weird thing?”

“Just-… weird shit,” she says, and after a few seconds of silent adds, “A bear attack. Yeah. I’m lucky to have gotten out of there without as much as a scratch.”

Billy’s frown becomes deeper. “There’s bears in Hawkins?”

Steph scoffs, “There’s a lot of weird shit around Hawkins.”

He keeps his hand steady, trying to decipher the exact meaning in Steph’s words. Something _did_ happen to her. But something tells him it got nothing to do with bears. The hesitation in her voice. The dry comments. Nonetheless, trauma is Billy’s specialty. He knows pushing the subject will only make things worse. And he doesn’t want to make things more difficult for Steph.

He can _try_ not be that much of a fuck up.

“We can skip tutoring if you’d like—“

“No, don’t be stupid,” Steph says, her voice going back to normal. “I can’t afford to go one more night pulling out my hairs because I don’t know what kind of organic compounds exist or whatever the hell Mrs. Harred has in store for me. Now, Billy fucking Hargrove, do your job and teach the dumb rich girl how to pass a Chem exam.”

Billy keeps Steph’s stare for a while longer. Making sure she’s not having a full blown panic attack. She must pick on it, for she unravels her arms and grabs Billy’s hand, putting it over her leg.

The jeans do not give her hips any justice. It’s warm. And if he squeezes just a bit, he swears he can feel how soft her skin is underneath them.

Or maybe it’s just his dick imagining things.

Either way, Steph is smiling again.

Billy closes his eyes. Redirecting the subject is also one of his specialties, and if that’s how Steph wants to handle things… Well, Billy has certainly done a lot worse.

“So, organic compounds.”

“Organic compounds.”

 

* * *

 

It’s been two hours and Billy Hargrove hasn’t felt like killing Steph Harrington, at least 50% of the time.

She’s gotten 4 to 5 questions out of 10. So, not all bad. She also does this funny thing with her nose when she gets something wrong, she pinches it upwards, tilts her head, looks like she wants to fight with Billy on it.

It’s endearing. If it didn’t drive him mad.

The hand on her leg has also been moving up and down. Billy gets closer to the inside of her thigh whenever she gets a question right, but when she gets it wrong, well, it goes just a bit down and away from what Steph really wants.

Of course, this has also frustrated her beyond belief.

Maybe that’s why she suggests, “How about a break?”

“You sure? We’re still stuck on the carboxylic acids.”

“ _Hargrove_. Come on. I can’t stand looking at these stupid cards anymore.”

Billy pulls a face. “I spent two nights writing these. If I’d known you’d be this ungrateful, I would’ve stuck throwing a Chem book at your head.”

“Oh! You think that would help? Maybe then the information would actually stick.”

Steph makes this face of utter astonishment. Like she believes what just came out of her mouth. It’s so perfect Billy’s own irritated mask falls off, and an amused smile takes its place.

“Nah. The book is too tick for that small head of yours.”

She smacks a soft pillow against his head. Billy falls backwards like it had been a rock. They both laugh. Annoying flashcards forgotten between the sheets.

“Let’s just take a break,” she says, again.

This time, however, she puts her hands above Billy’s head, looking down at him with a bit of mischief in her eyes. Her long hair falls down. Some of the strands hit his face, a soft brush that tickles.

They’re very, _very_ close.

Billy ponders closing the distance between them.

But then, Steph grows closer. And closer. He can feel her breath against his mouth. Her sweet brown eyes bore down on him, paralyzing Billy from head to toe. The beauty marks he’s fantasized about kissing are just at his fingertips. If he could only…

“Billy,” Steph whispers, lips almost touching.

 “Yes, princess?”

“Let’s take a break,” she says, smiling too wide.

 _God, I’m so hard_ , he thinks.

“Okay,” he breathes out, “Okay, let’s take a break.”

“Good.”

And just as he thinks their lips are finally getting acquainted – Steph’s sweet smile disappears and she gets out of the bed. Leaving Billy with a hard case of blue balls.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” she says. “Bathroom is on the left if you need some… relief.”

She closes the door. And Billy swears very unpleasant words into her pillow.

 

* * *

 

Billy tosses cold water to his face. He breathes heavly through his nose. It doesn’t really help with his irritating erection. But it does calm him a bit.

He shouldn’t have gone and gotten himself excited in the first place.

Billy looks at his reflection. His cheeks are still flushed. Was he like _this_ when Steph flirted with him?

 _What the hell happened to your cool?_ He thinks. _That’s why she quit in the middle of it. You look like a virgin who’d bust a nut at the mere touch of a girl’s hand on your dick. You’re ridiculous. Man up, dude. Jesus._

Billy fixes his hair. Slaps himself a few times to get the blood flowing out of his dick.

When he leaves the bathroom, though, something catches his attention.

By the side of Steph’s bed, he can see something hidden between her mattress and bedside table. His eyes catch something sharp. Billy, being the curious little shit he is, inspects further.

He takes the covers off. And is met with a baseball bat, with several nails pinned at the top.

“What the fuck,” he says. Completely thrown off.

Billy grabs it. Feels the weight of it on his hands. It’s heavy. Immediately, he knows its intention is not to just scare someone off, it’s to fucking _kill_ something.

Why in the hell would Steph Harrington have this, hidden in her preppy bedroom, is beyond him.

This wouldn’t exactly scare off bears. Those things are massive. And committed to tearing your face off (yes, he’s seen National Geographic).

So. What in the fuck is this for?

Is it… for something else? Someone else?

He’ll admit it, he’s scared.

(And if he can be honest, also a little turned on.)

But Billy is no saint himself, so judgment on his part is absent. He tucks the death weapon away. Covering it up like nothing had happened.

He’s a master of pretending everything is fine when it isn’t. Why would now be anything different?

 

Against his better judgment, Billy does not run off into his car and drive far _far_ away.

Instead, he walks down the stairs. Intended to join ~~(secret serial killer?)~~ Steph in the kitchen.

He never said he made the best decisions while horny.

Billy catches sight of her by the window. She’s outside, sprawled out on one of her lounge chairs. His prick decides to join her.

He takes the chair next to hers. At first, he doesn’t say anything, taking notice of Steph’s vacant stare towards the empty – yet, still very light - pool. But silence makes him uncomfortable, so he speaks up.

“And here I thought we were going to go skinny dipping,” he says, still a little on edge. “But with the weather I guess we’d freeze to death, uh?”

“Not really,” she says, “It’s a heated pool.”

“Hmm. So not much of a fan of swimming?”

“I was in the swimming team, actually.”

Billy raises his eyebrows, “Really? _You,_ in the swimming team?”

“I was really good at it, too,” she sighs, “But it was interfering with cheerleading.”

 _Ah, of course_ , he thinks.

“So you switched one posh hobby for another?”

“I actually ended up quitting both things.”

Billy tilts her head at her. “Not your scene?”

“No,” she says, a little dazed. “Too many bad memories.”

“Bad memories?”

“Yep.” Steph finally stares at Billy, for perhaps a bit too much. Then turns back her gaze to the empty pool. “Somebody died in there.”

A shiver runs down Billy’s spine.

“In your pool?”

“A girl. She went to our school. Barb. Barbara Holland.”

All of Billy’s hairs stand up. His mind starts wondering if this was all just a ruse to get him here, and cut him up into tiny little pieces just like one of those cheesy horror movies. Where in the hell were her parents anyway? Shouldn’t they be home by now?

 _Oh dear God she killed her parents_ —

“She was Nate’s best friend. Knew him since kindergarten, I think,” emotion comes back to Steph’s voice. It sounds like she’s about to cry.

Billy mentally sighs. Thankful he wasn’t about to get killed by the girl he’d been jacking off to.

“We were being dicks and left her alone in the pool. She probably died while me and Nate were having sex. How fucked up is that?”

Yeah, pretty fucked up. But Billy at least has the tact not to agree.

Dots start to connect and things start to make sense.

The baseball bat with nails sticking out? Probably for her own protection more than anything.

He gets it. He has a switchblade hidden inside one of his bedside table’s drawers.

It helps with the nightmares.

“You didn’t kill her.”

“But if I’d just been a bit nicer—“

“What? She would’ve lived long enough for another asshole to be mean to her? Come on. That’s not how it works. You didn’t fucking drown her in the pool, did you?”

Steph glares at thim. “Of course not!”

“Then what the fuck else could you have done? You can’t predict the future, Steph. That’s not how that shit works. Sometimes, bad things happens, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Regretting something you couldn’t have prevented is pointless.”

Billy wrestles with his pockets. Staring away from the princess’ hard gaze. It’s like he opened the Pandora box, and now it’s too easy for him to spill out all the horrible things inside him.

He takes a cigarette out and puts it between his teeth.

“Want one?” He asks, trying to diverge the subject.

“Did something similar happen to you?”

Billy lights it, trying to save him some time. He sucks the nicotine, and lets it escape through his nose. He’s on edge. That’ not good.

“No girl died in my pool, Harrington.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” he snaps back. “What, am I supposed to answer your fifty questions before we get to fuck?”

“Come on, Hargrove. Don’t be an asshole now.”

“Oh, didn’t know there was a time and place to be a dick. So _sorry_ about that.”

Billy continues to smoke. Trying to ignore the way Steph flinched at his words.

“Like I said, you don’t have to be an ass. A _no_ would have sufficed.”

He sighs. His brain thinking too quickly and too hard.

Did Pandora feel like her mouth was closed by a string of cotton too?

“Something did happen to me,” he tells her, after a few more minutes of silence. “I don’t like beaches too much because of it.”

Steph stares at him. “Did… Did you lose someone?”

Billy watches the empty pool, glowing blue light coming from complete nothingness.

“Yeah, I did.”

Steph keeps looking at him, and he’s too much of a coward to check if she’s showing sympathy or pity.

“I’m sorry, Billy.”

“It was a long time ago,” he says, shrugging. “Like I said, you can’t keep regretting something you couldn’t have prevented. That kind of shit drives someone mad.”

“Was it your mom?” Steph murmurs.

Billy closes his eyes, takes another drag of his cigarette. His fingers slide over the cold necklace, fingers stopping momentarily on the image of Holy Mary.

Smoke blows from his lips.

“That obvious I got mommy issues?”

Steph smiles, “If you’re with me, it’s pretty obvious.”

He smiles along with her. But something wants to crawl out and scream.

 _Shouldn’t it be the other way around?_ Billy is the fuck up here, not Steph. You don’t have to be a genius to put that together.

_How much did sweet little Nate screw you up?_

Instead of fighting with her on it, however, Billy decides to hand out his pack of cigs.

Steph sighs, “I stopped almost a year ago, you know.”

“Damn, Nathan Wheeler really turned you into a goody two shoes, uh?”

She squints at him, pinching that button nose upwards.

“Don’t go giving him all the credit. I became a respectable lady all by my own self.”

“That so,” Billy draws out, letting his voice go to that low timbre he knows drives the ladies a little crazy. “So, the respectable lady is not at all tempted?”

She bites her lips. “Not at all.”

Billy lets out that side sharp smile. Smokes a bit more, lets it go in Steph’s direction. Her hands twitch at the smell of it.

“You sure, princess?”

Her tongue wets her lower lip; and that’s how Billy knows he’s got her.

“What’s another bad decision, right?” She says. And Steph surprises him once more, when she refuses his choice of cigarettes, and instead stands up from her chair, deciding to sit across Billy’s lap.

She takes his light cig from his hands and brings it to her lips. Steph inhales, closing her eyes as the deadly smoke fills her lungs. It leaves through her pink mouth. Princess opens her pretty little eyes. Winks. And hands it over for his turn.

Billy tosses it aside, no longer interested in that damn cigarette.

He rises up, hands coming to rest at Steph’s hips, pushing up against him. She gasps. And Billy swallows all her little sounds.

 

* * *

 

Princess grabs him by the hair and pushes his hair down, so she can kiss all over his tanned neck. He can even feel the sharp edge of her teeth, threatening to break skin. Billy’s hands are grabbing at her ass, squeezing her body closer. His vision is a little blurry. He buries his nose at the top of Steph’s head, his senses being engulfed by her hairspray and sweat. Strangely, this makes him harder.

He moans as Steph grinds into his erection. One of her hands already under his shirt, nails digging into his stomach.

“Fuck me,” he rasps.

Steph chuckles, “That should be my line.”

“Yeah?”

And then he reaches her zipper. Billy’s long fingers go under her panties, which makes Steph shiver upon contact. One of them find her folds and wiggles at her entrance. He likes the desperate sound she lets out.

“Billy,” she moans. He licks her neck, ending it with a gentle kiss near her right ear. She shivers some more. “Don’t be a freakin’ tease.”

“Like you’ve been all night?”

His thumb goes a little high, putting pressure on her clit. His teeth pull on her earlobe. She gasps. And Billy doesn’t feel a bit guilty.

But then it’s Steph turn to push down on him. Her right hand grinding down on his erection, slipping two of her finger under his waistband. The touch of her cold skin makes him shiver in an entirely different way. He wants those pretty fingers wrapped around his cock.

“How much do you want me right now?” Steph asks, fingers just barely brushing his length.

Billy groans, and responds in kind, sliding his thumb to the side of her clit, abandoning her entrance altogether. She bites her lip in frustration.

“A real fucking lot,” he says, smirking. “Just like you.”

“Smug bastard,” she says, without any bite.

She leans in again and continues kissing him. It’s still messy and desperate. Tongues touching and sharing the taste of nicotine. But it’s also soft, their touches turning gentle and slow. The hand still on Steph’s ass returns to her waist, and Billy can’t help himself but go below her sweater, thumb meeting milky white skin. He presses on it, but not too hard. Billy just wants to feel her skin against him.

He wants to hear more of her sounds.

He wants to see her face as he makes her come.

(Billy may just have gone a little soft on Preppy Princess Steph.)

Steph backs away from the kissing. Enough for Billy to open his eyes in confusion. Has he done something wrong?

He is hit with Steph’s soft expression, a small smile spreading wide. She looks at him with a different kind of heat. She looks as if she cares more than she should.

Billy can’t stand it.

So, he puts his hands back to her ass, and with enough maneuver, gets out of the chair with Steph’s legs wrapped around his waist. Her gasp of surprise throws that look right off her face.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he says, in that low voice again.

Incredibly, this is what gets Steph’s cheeks to burn like wildfire.

“Okay,” she whispers.

Billy chuckles, and gives her a chaste kiss on the way up.

 

It’s harder than it seems to carry a petite girl up a flight of stairs.

Steph seems to realize his predicament early on, because she slides down from his waist mid kiss, pushing at his shirt and leading the rest of the way.

His hands don’t want to leave her.

They grasp her arm, her shoulder – he pins her to the wall next to her bedroom door so he can kiss her again. Open her glistering pink mouth with his tongue and make the princess weak at her knees. Their wet sounds echo throughout the house. It turns Billy on even more.

 _Are you wet as your mouth?,_ he thinks, sliding his hand down her panties again. Groaning when his fingers touch her wetness.

He brings them up. So Steph can see her cum drip over his palm.

“See how wet you are?” He asks, giving another smug smirk. “I didn’t know you could drip this much for me, sweetheart.”

Steph, still rosy with her flushed cheeks, licks her lips.

And then guides those wet fingers to her mouth. Billy’s throat goes dry just like at that Halloween party. It’s even worse now. Because Steph is moaning against his fingers, sliding her tongue between them, looking up at him with this intense gaze on those bambi brown eyes.

You could say Billy’s pants just got a lot tighter.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington,” he rasps, almost out of breath.

She nibs at his fingers. Giving it a soft kiss as a way of goodbye. She slides a leg between his own. The pressure on his cock makes him groan.

“And look how hard I’ve made you, _baby_.”

Well, that settles it then.

Billy hosts her up from her hips, dragging her finally inside the bedroom. She laughs at his show of man handling.

He drops her unto the bed unceremoniously, pinning her wrists above her head in the process. Billy checks bambi’s face. She’s smiling, and wetting her mouth. He goes down to join her tongue.

“Billy,” she moans, high and a little slurry.

“Steph,” he whispers against her skin, too soft.

He pretends his tone wasn’t as kind with a sharp bite to her neck. She gasps, body arching against his. Billy soothes her pain with a messy kiss, sucking on the few drops of blood his teeth have made. Steph’s legs wrap around him again.

“Billy, come on,” she pleads again. Unable to put her hands around him.

“Now, now, princess,” he murmus, licking the hickey he just made. “Where’s your manners? I thought you were a respectable lady now.”

“You—,” she starts, but quickly quiets down when one of Billy’s hands leave her wrist, deciding to move down her sweater and climbing up her torso. He’s brushing against her bra. Teasing her exposed skin.

He smiles at her, all teeth. He knows where he wants his mouth to go next. But he wants princess to beg some more.

Steph gets with the program; perhaps a little too quickly.

“Please,” she whispers. “Please, Billy.”

“Alright, sweetheart. I hear ya,” he says, too smug. He pushes her sweater up, giving a chaste kiss to the middle of her stomach. Billy rubs against her when she starts to shiver. “Don’t worry,” he says, again, too soft. “I’ll take care of you.”

His hand caresses her left breast, pushing the fabric of the bra aside so he can finally see the soft pink nipple. It gets hard quickly due to the cold air. Billy groans at the sight.

His lips brush against it, almost a kiss. Tongue slips out to lick, and then Billy wraps his lips around it. Steph lets out a breathy desperate sound. He sucks and is rewarded with a chocked out _Billy_.

He continues his handy work.

Her skin really is soft.

And her sounds are addicting.

Billy can’t get enough.

He wants to reward her, so he moves his hand down, slowly, making sure Steph can feel him as his fingers find her sweet spot again. Her breaths get quicker. His fingers start to get wet again. Billy knows she’s close.

But then, a hand grabs his wrist, and yanks it off her pants. That same hand pushes on his shoulder, hard. She wants him to get off.

His head goes up, brows frowning in confusion.

Steph’s face is fully red now, but her enthusiastic breaths have now become too harsh. She looks like she’s about to pass out. Billy immediately gets off, standing up and away to give her room to breathe.

“Steph,” he says, trying to stay calm. “What’s wrong?”

She hides her face under her arms. Her breathing quieting down. Billy’s hands are trembling.

It’s a full minute before she sits up, fixing her sweater and jeans, brushing her hair away from her face. She seems calmer now. But she still won’t look at him.

“Steph?” He asks, again. Getting anxious.

_Did I do something wrong? Did I force anything? Did she say no? Did I not hear her? What did I do? Oh, God, what the fuck did I do—_

“It’s, uh…,” she starts, still looking down. “It was just too much. It was good. I liked it, but… I think my brain finally caught up with me. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Billy’s hands are moving to his hair, his jacket, he just can’t get them to stay still.

“Did I-… Was it something I did?”

Steph finally looks at him. “No! No. You didn’t do anything wrong, Billy.”

He sighs, but it’s short lived.

“I’m the one who’s in the wrong here.”

Billy doesn’t glare, but it’s a close thing. “What do you mean?”

“I’m… I shouldn’t be doing this to Nate.”

_Oh, you got to be kidding me!_

“What?”

“I still love Nate,” she says, and it’s a hard blow to take. Mostly because Billy knew it all along. But it still sucks to hear it. “I still… I want to get back together with him. And doing whatever it was we were doing… isn’t the way to do it.”

Billy’s nostrils flair up.

“You have got to be shitting me,” he snaps. “He runs off with another girl, and you want to get back together? Harrington, did I hit your head on the wall or something while I had my tongue down your throat? Because _that_ has to be the dumbest fucking thing you’ve said all night!”

Steph’s eyes go sharp.

“He did not fucking run off with Joan. You know nothing about what’s going on! You have no clue! Nobody in this freakin’ town does. He didn’t go with Joan to fuck her on a cheesy motel or other bullshit Carol and Tommy are spewing out!”

Now, Billy has to laugh.

“Sweetie, please tell me you’re not this naïve. A guy doesn’t get in a car with a girl and disappear for a whole week to go on some adventurist road trip. He does it to get his dick wet!”

Steph stands up. “Get the fuck out.”

Billy eyes her down, returning to his mean old self. He smirks, licking his lips.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I was hoping to have one of your famous blowjobs at least. But hey, I still got a little taste, didn’t I, princess? Who knew you’d be this eager for an asshole like me, uh. Guess Nate breaking up with you was the best thing to happen in Hawkins. The boys can finally share you around again! And I was the first in line.”

The slap comes fast and hard. The sting is so sharp Billy knows he’ll be feeling it in the morning.

Well, he can’t say he didn’t deserve it.

“Leave,” she snarls.

Billy does her the favor of not saying anything about the tears in her eyes.

He just leaves.

When he reaches his car, he starts hitting his fists against the dashboard. Again. And again. And again. His hands hurt by the end of it, but it’s bearable. He’s had worse from Neil anyway. He can drive himself home just fine.

 

* * *

 

Max takes one look at him to know he messed up.

“Guess it was too good to be true, uh?”

“Fuck off,” he says, and slams the door in her face.

Billy goes over what he told Steph, over and over again. It becomes obsessive.

In the middle of the night, he wakes up, startled and in a rush to go to the bathroom. He pukes, right into the sink. Tears start to slide down.

Billy can hear it, from inside himself, a part of him too self-aware not to whisper: _Wasn’t that the same way dad treated mom? Whenever he got mad at whatever inconsequential thing, he’d huff and puff, and shout all those mean twisted words. Just like you did. Oh. Wouldn’t he be proud._

The necklace dangles from his neck in the reflection.

Billy closes his eyes, and rips it away.

He can’t stand his mother looking at him the same way she’d look at Neil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Billy having his shit together? You wish. Don't worry, there's going to be more pain in the next few chapters.
> 
> (Please don't kill me.)


End file.
